


True Love Comes Softly

by heatherfield



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 19th Century, Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Historical, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 167,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatherfield/pseuds/heatherfield
Summary: The beginning of a new life turns tragic when newlywed Ruby Smith suddenly finds herself alone in the wild frontier. With nowhere else to turn and winter rapidly approaching, she reluctantly accepts an offer from a kindly stranger, Archibald Hopper, for a place to stay until spring. (Based on the book “Love Comes Softly” by Janette Oke and the movie adaptation.)





	1. In Another Life (Prologue)

Ruby’s muscles ached and her bones felt rattled in her skin like an upset jigsaw puzzle, never to be put back together again. The thin bench of the wagon did nothing to absorb the jolts of the trail, and she hugged her husband’s arm as he gripped the reins. The horizon, which used to hold such promise of their new life together, now taunted her—a destination always out of reach as they followed the rise and fall of the hills, a small consolation after the monotonous flatlands.

Ruby swallowed as her stomach lurched with each jolt, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. “I can’t take it!” she finally exclaimed, causing Peter to pull on the reins to bring the horses to a gentle stop.

She scrambled off the wagon, unable to keep the bounce out of her step as her feet connected with the solid ground. The contact reminded her of her sore feet, but it was nothing to the ache in her rear end and the restlessness in her soul.

“Ruby, come back!” Peter yelled as he scrambled down after her. “Get back in the wagon!”

Ruby closed her eyes as a thousand defenses came to mind to persuade him to stop for a moment. _Peter Smith, you can’t drag a woman out into the middle of nowhere and keep her cooped up in a covered wagon and not expect her to go stir crazy!_

She paused, took a deep breath, and slowly turned to face him. When her eyes met his, her anger melted away and she returned his look of concern with a small smile. “I’m fine,” she reassured him, recalling all the times her queasy stomach had forced them to stop along their journey. Truth be told, she thought she was made of stronger stuff, but nothing could have prepared her for life on the trail—nothing to eat but cornmeal gruel and biscuits after their beans and rice ran out, going for days without seeing a source of fresh water, making washing difficult, sleeping with nothing but canvas over one’s head—or sometimes the stars, which admittedly wasn’t half bad on a clear, warm night….

But the _worst_ thing was sitting in that damned heap of a wagon over miles of bumpy trail. It was enough to make her feel like a caged animal, and she almost had to fight the urge to take off running in any direction, just for a taste of freedom.

“I just needed to stretch my legs,” she explained as Peter took her hands in his.

“I know this hasn’t been easy,” Peter said as he rubbed his thumbs over the back of her hands, his gaze fixed downwards for a moment. “I promise we’re almost there. Soon, we’ll have our own little house, and you’ll never have to sleep in a covered wagon again.”

Ruby grinned and squeezed his hands. “Is that a promise?”

Peter looked up to meet her gaze, and his smile widened to match her own. “You know it is.” His eyes then focused behind her, and she turned around to see what had caught his attention.

“We’ll have a place with a view like this,” he said as he hugged his arm around her shoulders. The sight took Ruby’s breath away: several feet in front of them, the earth dropped to the valley, as if they stood high over the tree line. The colours of fall—with every shade of auburn and yellow and gold—made the valley look alight under the kiss of the sun. Beyond that, the mountains rose out of the landscape, fading to a soft blue to meet the clear sky, as if they had stood over the valley for thousands of years and would continue to stand guard for thousands of years more.

Ruby’s heart lifted and she couldn’t help but bounce under Peter’s embrace as she raised herself on the balls of her feet. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

Peter kissed her temple before spinning around, taking in their surroundings. “It’s exactly like I pictured it,” he said as he waved his hand. “Can you see it?” He started to run towards an imaginary point several feet away before he spun around to face Ruby. “Just over here.”

Ruby beamed. “A cabin—with curtains in the windows!”

Peter raced to another corner of the clearing, and Ruby laughed to see him acting like a little kid. “And over here—a barn!”

“And a garden! Where we’ll grow food that will put Granny’s vegetables to shame.”

“And those trees are just made for swings for all those kids that are gonna look just like their mama,” Peter added as he made his way back to Ruby.

“I don’t mind if they look like their father,” Ruby said more softly as her heart warmed at the thought.

“We did it. I think this is our new home!” Peter raced to Ruby and took her in his arms to swing her around, making Ruby squeal in delight.

As he placed her on the ground, Ruby felt like her heart would burst when she saw that he was grinning as widely as she. “It’s perfect,” she breathed with her hands clasped around his neck. She gladly accepted the kiss that he pressed to her lips, closing her eyes as she kissed him back. Then, she leaned her forehead against his and teased, “This perfect home for a perfect family _might_ just make up for you stealing my grandmother’s one-and-only granddaughter away.” She barely had time to catch the glint in her husband’s eye before he picked her up and spun her around again. Ruby couldn’t help but squeal like a schoolgirl as the weight of the weeks of planning and travelling dissipated in an instant.

 

* * *

 

That night was one of the most peaceful and restful nights Ruby had ever spent in their little wagon, stuffed with all their earthly belongings—including more than a few books that Peter constantly grumbled about carting along. Still, his threats held no bite as he tossed aside the last pounds of beans and rice to ensure that they could keep his wife’s prized possessions—and besides, they’d need a little bit of culture in their new home, so which was really more important? Still, Ruby made sure she never complained about the dry biscuits and cornmeal pancakes that had sustained them since then.

They’d both been so excited as they settled in for the night, dreaming of the homestead that was almost theirs. More practically, they’d decided that the next day Peter would go into town to register his claim on the land while Ruby took stock of their supplies and perhaps explored to find the nearest source of water… or the spot that would provide the best view from their future covered porch.

Come morning, Ruby awoke in her husband’s arms with the faint light of dawn peeking in the crack of the canvas. She could smell the dampness in the air as the dew clung to the landscape and she paused to listen to the crickets chirping their greeting to the morning sun.

Ruby bit back a grin as she sat up slowly, making sure not to disturb Peter as he rolled over with a groan. She slipped out of the wagon through the canvas cover and made her way over to the horses tied up to a tree several feet away.

“Hey, Prince,” she murmured as the stroked the horse’s velvety muzzle. Gently she untied the reins from the tree and slipped them over the horse’s head before jumping up on his back, her hands gripping the mane as she turned on her stomach. She swung her leg around and sat up so she was straddling the horse, and with a squeeze of her knees and a click of her tongue, they were off.

Peter would kill her if he knew what she was doing, but the stillness of the morning called to her, the moon still visible in western horizon as the soft light in the east announced the sun’s impending arrival. There was something about the moon that always calmed Ruby—the one constant in this adventure, for wherever she was, she could look up and see that friendly face shining down on her—the waxing and waning phases that always kept time as a solid, predictable presence. For a moment, the world was suspended in a magical trance, and Ruby urged Prince into a gallop as they flew along the landscape. Ruby’s hair whipped all around her and the cool air stung her cheeks and lungs as she drank in the heady feeling of freedom, with only the open sky above her and the powerful muscle of the horse beneath her. It was the farthest thing from being ladylike—riding bareback in her nightclothes—but what did it matter in the middle of nowhere?

Soon, Ruby tied Prince back up to the tree. “It’ll be our little secret,” she whispered as she patted his neck. Then, she snuck back inside the wagon to join Peter.

“Where were you?” Peter moaned with his eyes closed, and Ruby wasn’t entirely sure if he was awake.

“You don’t ask a lady such things,” she teased. “Where do you think I was?” He simply wrapped his arm around her and gave her a squeeze as she snuggled back into him. With a quick kiss to his chest, she was off to sleep, suddenly very tired—and very happy.

 

* * *

 

The next thing she knew, Ruby awoke to the sound of Peter cursing outside the wagon.

“Jiminy _Cricket_!” she heard before he poked his head into the little shelter. She sat up slowly and blinked away the sleep from her eyes before she focused on him.

“One of the horses got away,” he sighed as he shrugged on his coat, and Ruby groaned. “I’m just going after him. I shouldn’t be long—he’s probably just a ways downstream.”

Then, he disappeared, and Ruby frowned as she tried to will her body to move.

“Wait!” she cried as she threw back the canvas to see Peter already mounted on their other horse, Lady. “I’m coming with you!” The sudden realization of what must have happened hit her with a pang of guilt.

“No need.” He shook his head. “I’ll be back with Prince before breakfast.” Then, he shot her his lopsided grin as he added, “Be sure to make me lots of pancakes. I’ll be hungry.”

If Ruby didn’t know any better, she’d say that he was teasing her, but she grinned back at him before he disappeared on horseback. Ruby wasn’t the greatest cook, but she’d certainly become far more adept than she’d ever wish to be at making pancakes out of their cornmeal gruel.

What had sounded delicious a second ago suddenly sounded revolting as Ruby’s stomach turned at the thought of the smell that would soon rise from the frying pan. She leaned over the side of the wagon, lucky enough to miss the wooden side as she vomited into the grass below.

A smile bloomed as Ruby decided that it might be time to let Peter in on what she had suspected for a while now—that, to say the least, her queasiness had a very different source than her being a lightweight on a swaying, jolting wagon.

Ruby rushed to get ready, slipping into her favourite red dress. Her heart felt about to burst as she imagined her husband’s reaction when he would return to learn that their family might be growing far more quickly than either of them had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a little passion project of mine for about two years, and I can’t believe I’m finally ready to share! I wanted to try writing it all out first so I could post consistently. The plan is to post a chapter each week (on Wednesdays), and there will be at least 30 chapters. I’m so excited to finally be posting, so please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Also, the biggest of shout-outs to my beta readers Silkendreamer and LivtheZombae for their encouragement and for being just as excited as I was each time I finished another chapter. :D


	2. An Unconventional Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby's world comes crashing down, forcing her to consider the one lifeline offered to her.

This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

Ruby didn’t know how long she’d been kneeling in the dirt, her knees stained and soaked. The rain pounded her back and dripped down her face so she could barely see the rough cross, the only sign of the life—the body—that lay beneath the ground, save for the neat rectangle of freshly-turned earth.

Less than twenty-four hours earlier, she had gazed on her husband’s smiling face. Then, after hours of waiting for him to return, a vaguely familiar man—David Nolan, the sheriff from town—came to her instead with a sombre expression that turned Ruby’s stomach cold the moment their eyes met.

There had been an accident—a simple, stupid accident—that had thrown Peter from his horse. Possibly spooked by wolves, though that was unusual during the day. He landed head-first on a rock, killed instantly. Painless.

Gone.

She was lucky, they told her, that the preacher was still in town to perform the funeral—but what did she care about that?

Ruby leaned forward and dug her hands into the mud, her face contorted in a silent pain that was barren of tears as she tried to swallow the bile that rose in her throat. Her stomach felt like it was filled with lead, a deadly weight stuck inside her that had sucked away all her energy.

No tears came—just a dull ache that threatened to take over, and she prayed for the ground to swallow her whole, too—to let her soak into the earth along with the rain.

And yet, the nagging question came—what next? If she was really left here, and not buried with Peter—what was she going to do? Winter would come fast, and she had nowhere to stay. She didn’t have enough money to board in town for all those months—especially since Prince and Lady, their most valuable possessions, were long gone—and there was no way she could travel back to her grandmother before spring.

As much as Ruby tried to quiet her mind, the worries for her future filled her thoughts as she scrambled to piece her new reality together.

 _Not my future._ Our _future._ Her hand flew to her belly as she had to remind herself that she had so much more to think about now than just her own well-being.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a soft voice barely cut through the rain. Ruby looked over her shoulder to see a man standing behind her. He was tall with red hair that was rain-soaked and flattened, wearing spectacles through which he squinted to see her—an effort made almost futile by the downpour. He looked to be older than her—though by how much, Ruby couldn’t tell, especially in the rain, with his features scrunched up in either sympathy, or poor vision, or both.

He clasped his hands around his hat, playing with it almost nervously as he tried to choose his words.

What on earth could this man have to say to her? David Nolan had already put everything in order for the funeral, and his wife, Mary Margaret, had already urged her to consider her plans for the future, making it clear that time was a luxury unavailable to her. And yet, surely they could let her grieve for one more day?

Ruby clenched her fists as she waited for him to explain himself, and she stared at him as if to dare him to offer some bumbling condolences.

“I’m Archibald—Archie—Hopper, and I’m truly sorry about your loss,” he said quietly, and Ruby had to strain to hear him. His words were not unexpected, and yet, he said them so earnestly that her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, against her better judgment.

“I-I have a proposition for you,” he stammered, looking down at his hands before meeting her gaze once more. Ruby kept her eyes fixed on him, unsure what to think as she waited for him to continue. Then, he knelt to the ground, and Ruby’s heart started to race as she realized what was happening.

“I know it’s not the right place, or the right time”—Ruby’s eyes widened—“but I thought that if we marry, it’ll help solve both our problems.”

Ruby turned back around to face the grave—the cross marker—and shifted the dirt, which had become thick mud, into a pile around the wooden cross. Was this really happening?

Still, the redheaded man continued in his even, soothing tone. “You’ll have a roof over your head, and my son will have a mama. I know it sounds crazy,” he added quickly, “and the timing’s unlikely, but you have to understand, the preacher’s leaving the area tomorrow and he’s not going to be back until spring. And I ask this, only for my son—I’m thinking that he needs a woman’s hand.” The warmth with which this man spoke about his child caught Ruby’s attention as she listened to the rest of his proposal.

“I know it’s not the perfect solution, but when the wagon train heads back east in the spring—I’ll pay the passage so you can go home.”

Ruby listened to all this with her back to the man, her focus on her hands moving over the mud, and she tried not to look at her wedding ring that glinted in contrast to the dark earth. As he finished his speech, she stopped, frozen, her senses screaming as she tried to take it in.

 _Home_. All she needed to do was get through this winter, and then she could go home.

For the first time since he’d started this speech, Ruby turned to face him—to really look at him. He was kneeling down in the mud, eye-level with her. His expression was soft with concern, and she thought she could see clear, blue eyes behind his spectacles—clear eyes that held such warmth towards her—that trusted her with his son, even though he knew nothing about her.

Clear, blue, warm eyes that offered her a way out.

“You’ll help me get back home?” she asked softly as she felt her own eyes brim with tears.

“If that’s what you want,” he nodded. His mouth opened and then closed—his eyes always fixed on hers, and Ruby couldn’t look away. He licked his lips before finally saying, “I’ll leave you to think on it, ma’am.” Then, he placed his hat on his head, tipped the brim towards her, stood up, and walked away. Even after he’d disappeared from sight, Ruby stared out across the grassy landscape, unable to decide what to make of the man who would take in a grieving widow as his own wife—a strange woman as a temporary mother to his child—and give a lost woman shelter for the winter, without any scandal or risk to her reputation, and with relatively little for her to do on her part. And all that just to send her away, at his own expense, come spring.

Ruby’s hand settled on her stomach once more.

He would help her— _them—_ get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure I'm the one who can't wait 'til Wednesdays come around 'cause I want to share this so badly. And yay, Archie's on the scene! Also, I'm sorry that the chapters are so short at first—I promise they'll be longer eventually.


	3. An Unconventional Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby gathers her courage (with the help of newfound friend and soon-to-be-neighbour Mary Margaret Nolan) to follow through on her decision before she can change her mind.

The next day saw Ruby standing outside the Nolans’ home as the sun poured over her skin, a stark contrast to the downpour of the day before. Ruby took no notice, however. She wouldn’t have even known how much time had passed—how long it must have been since she lay all day on the pile of dirt, since she’d agreed to marry a strange man—except for the fact that the preacher was still in town to marry them. Her whole body felt numb, unaware of the heat of the sun’s rays or the warm breeze that blew her loose hair in her face, and she gripped the folds of her dress—her red dress, which she’d put on to tell Peter her good news—that was becoming wrinkled and grimy after she’d slept in her clothes.

She should have at least found something suitable to wear, but she hated dark colours—didn’t own anything much for mourning. And now she was going to get married in red. The thought made her stand up a bit straighter, embracing her armour.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the redheaded man with a little boy who looked to be about nine or ten. He had the same shock of red hair, though a little more vibrant, and Ruby wondered if the older man’s hair had once been that same shade. The boy was pointing to two other children, a little blonde girl who was shouting back at him—maybe about six—and another boy who looked slightly older, tears streaming down his cheeks. Sheriff Nolan and a young woman Ruby hadn’t yet met consoled the boy and the girl, rocking an infant in her arms, while the redheaded man with glasses shuffled the other boy to the porch, having given him a stern talking to.

Then, Ruby felt the presence of someone beside her. “I can’t do this,” she gasped before turning to face Mary Margaret. The sympathy she read in the other woman’s eyes was enough to overflow the well of emotions that Ruby had thus far been able to keep dammed up, and Ruby looked away with a deep breath as she tried to regain control—tried to return to that soothing numbness. “I—I just want to go home.”

The other woman put a hand on Ruby’s arm. “I know it’s hard,” Mary Margaret said softly, “but there’s no place in this part of the country to cry over wants. Your life’s about needs now.” Mary Margaret followed Ruby’s gaze to the door through which the stranger who was about to become Ruby’s husband had disappeared. “Archie’s a good man. He’ll take care of you—you’ll get a roof over your head for the winter—and come spring, you’ll be able to go home. That’s a fair bargain.”

Ruby met Mary Margaret’s gaze and tried to give her a small smile, grateful for the friendship that seemed to exist between them. Mary Margaret’s voice held no malice, only wisdom that was kindly meant—with just enough fortitude to strengthen Ruby’s resolve. Still, try as she might, she could feel her nose and eyes start to sting, and she swallowed to fight back tears.

With her own sad smile, Mary Margaret gently led Ruby to the doorway, and Ruby didn’t have the energy to resist as she tried to summon the courage for what she was about to do.

They entered the cabin—a humble building, with the main floor consisting of a one-room parlour and kitchen made of rough clapboard—to see Mr. Hopper and Sheriff Nolan and the preacher all waiting for her inside. It took a moment for Ruby’s eyes to adjust to the dim light, and the shouts of the children playing outside only emphasized the gloom of the event about to take place. Ruby couldn’t look at the eyes all fixed on her, their expressions filled with pity, and her gaze dropped to the floor.

Ruby gripped Mary Margaret’s arm as she willed her feet to move towards the men, blood pounding in her ears. Before she knew it, she was standing beside the stranger who was about to become her husband, and Ruby forced herself not to reach for Mary Margaret’s hand as the woman stepped aside.

She finally allowed herself to look at the gentleman beside her. He was dressed in the same shirt and jacket as the day before, and Ruby assumed it was his modest Sunday best. He looked tidy and clean-shaven, so that was something. His red hair, though thinning, was curly and more voluminous than it had been when she’d seen him in the rain when it was plastered to his scalp. And his eyes that looked back at her through the frames of his glasses—they really were so clear and blue, and filled with concern as his brows softened when she met his gaze, and her heart briefly quieted in her chest.

For a moment, Ruby felt a million miles away from her body as she stood inches away from a stranger in a rough wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere. Then, the preacher asked them to join hands, but Ruby couldn’t bring herself to do it—could only allow Mr. Archibald Hopper to take her hand in his as she remained motionless, her eyes now fixed on the preacher in front of her. The warm touch that clasped her palm brought a new wave of grief over Ruby, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut and bite her lip to keep the images of Peter away—to stop her heart from wishing that his familiar hand could hold hers just once more.

Instead, she was listening to a stranger holding a black leather Bible ask if Archibald Hopper would take Ruby Smith to be his lawful wedded wife. An unfamiliar voice answered solemnly, “I will.” Ruby shook her head to hear him say the words so easily, as if they weren’t swearing to be joined to each other for life, whatever that looked like.

Then, it was her turn. “Do you, Ruby Smith, take Archibald Hopper to be your husband?”

Ruby’s breaths became shallow and her mouth went dry as she struggled to form the words on her lips.

The preacher leaned forward and said, “Just answer, ‘I will’.”

_I can’t—I won’t—I shan’t!_

“I will.” Ruby closed her eyes at the betrayal those words held, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

“Then I pronounce you man and wife.” The familiar line that once held so much joy was so matter-of-fact, so solemn that Ruby almost couldn’t believe that she’d just been joined in holy matrimony to this man. And yet, with those last words, the deed was done.

Ruby all but yanked her hand free from Archibald Hopper’s grasp.

To make things official in the eyes of the law as well as the eyes of God, they moved to the table where the papers were already laid out, waiting to be signed. Ruby watched Mr. Hopper sign his name in neat script before he handed the pen to her. She took a deep breath to steady her hand, though try as she might, her signature did not look like it should have. Still, it was legible, and she’d managed not to spill any tears on the paper. Then, she stepped back to let Mary Margaret and David perform their duty as the witnesses.

Archibald came up beside her, briefly laying his hand on her back, making Ruby start, before pulling it back. “I, uh, I realize there are no rings, but I thought we could take care of that later.” His voice was low and soft as he spoke in her ear. Ruby only nodded, her gaze fixed on the sheriff and his wife who were finishing up with the preacher. She instinctively played with the ring already on her fourth finger, and her stomach lurched to think that she would have to take it off. No—they would not take that from her, too.

She couldn’t bring herself to meet the man’s gaze as he said something about getting the team hitched up, and Ruby was only vaguely aware of Mary Margaret’s rubbing her arm. She let out a deep breath as the woman stayed blessedly silent—no false congratulations offered—and she shuffled back outside with Mary Margaret’s arm hooked around hers, leaving Mr. Nolan to talk with the preacher.

Ruby only barely registered herself getting in the wagon beside the little boy while his father drove the horse to take them to another homestead. This cabin was only one storey, with a slanted roof that was higher over the main part of the building and sloped down to cover the room that had been added onto the side.

“Woah, Cleo!” Archibald Hopper called out as he pulled on the reins. The Clydesdale came to a stop as a large dog bounded up to meet them—all black fur with white patches and a booming bark. If Ruby didn’t know any better, she’d say that “wolf” was a more appropriate label.

“Pongo!” August exclaimed as he scrambled over Ruby to greet his pet.

Archibald hopped down and rushed over to help Ruby out of the wagon. “He’s harmless,” he assured her, though Ruby hadn’t been worried. She shivered as her palm connected with his once more as he guided her down to the ground.

“Here, let’s get you inside,” he said gently as he took her elbow and led her to the door. Then, he looked over his shoulder. “August, you can start unhitching Cleo—I’m just going to get Miss Ruby settled.”

Ruby cringed at the name—she hadn’t been “Miss Ruby” in ages—but she supposed that it was better than the alternative.

As they entered the little cabin, her gaze wandered around the space. She couldn’t quite take in her surroundings as a whole but she noticed items strewn about. A pair of overalls hanging over a chair near the cast iron stove. The dishes piled in a washbasin. An ornately carved shelf that held an impressive collection of leather-bound books, so out of place in their rustic surroundings...

…like the bare windows.

“This is your room,” Mr. Hopper explained as he opened the only other door. Ruby nodded as she slowly passed through, her feet filled with lead.

Archibald stayed in the doorway. “I’ve moved mine and August’s things into the lean-to, so you won’t be disturbed here.” Ruby absentmindedly walked around, ending up in the corner of the room as she folded her arms across her middle. “I’ll, uh, bring in your trunk for you. And I can get the rest of your things from your wagon tomorrow.” Archibald looked like he was about to say more and then thought better of it, but before he could close the door, a blur of fur pushed through and sauntered up to Ruby.

“Pongo!” the man exclaimed as he made an unsuccessful lunge for the animal.

Ruby shook her head. “No, it’s okay.” The dog sat at her feet, panting, and Ruby laid her hand on his fur.

Archibald nodded and shut the door, leaving Ruby blessedly alone, save for the pet. With her hand still in the dog’s fur, she slid down the wall until she was huddled in the corner. The dog nudged her hand with his nose.

All of a sudden, an overwhelming ache took over Ruby, and she buried her face in the soft fur, her arms wrapped around the solid animal as the tears came so fiercely that she thought she would never come up for air.


	4. Father and Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie does his best to explain the new situation to an inquisitive August.

“Pa, why don’t she come out and have dinner with us? She’s been in there for hours.”

Archie looked up from his plate to see his son’s raised eyebrows, as if to question why the rules applied to himself but not the strange lady who had taken over their bedroom.

“‘Won’t,’” Archie corrected. “‘Why _won’t_ she come out.’ And she’ll come out when she’s ready. Right now she’d sad because she just lost her husband. It’s called grieving.”

“But I thought you were her husband,” the boy countered as he swirled his peas on his plate—the only food left after he’d conveniently filled up on the more appetizing parts of his dinner.

“Yes, technically I am”—Archie paused to shoot a look of his own, daring the boy to continue with his plan to feed his peas to the dog who sat patiently beside him, and August returned his hands to the table—“but before that she was married to another man, but he died.”

“Neal told me that she’s going to be my new mama now, but I told him he doesn’t know anything about mamas since his real mama ran away and he’s just got a step-mama now.”

“August!” Archie said sharply, and the boy winced. Archie let out a sigh before he said more calmly, “You know that’s not true. Neal’s mother died when he was young—like your parents—and now his father remarried. So Neal has a stepmother, but that doesn’t make her any less of his mother, just like how I’m still your papa even though I’m not your birth father.”

August frowned at his plate and Archie could see the wheels turning in the boy’s head. Usually, Archie welcomed his questions and encouraged his inquisitive mind, but after the whirlwind that had been the last twenty-four hours…

August looked up, his mouth pursed before he asked, “So does this mean that Miss Ruby is my stepmother?”

Archie closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead before he met the boy’s gaze once more. He really should have tried to explain things more fully. And yet, when he realized that August’s expression had softened to genuine concern, he his heart rose in his throat.

“Miss Ruby is going to stay with us over the winter before she goes back home to her family in the spring,” he said finally—though he conveniently left out his hopes that August would benefit from having a mother figure around. Knowing his son as he did, he figured August would have something to say about that, since her presence alone had already been met with resistance. Still, Archie had faith that the arrangement would work out for the best—with hopefully very little upset.

“But then, if she’s going to leave, why did you get married?”

“Because it wouldn’t be proper for her to stay here otherwise.” Archie didn’t know how to explain it all—the cruel nature of those that would take advantage of a young widow, alone and penniless, or how tongues would wag—at best—if a single man and woman lived together, however innocently. It was far from ideal, but it was the best protection he could offer. He also couldn’t explain that the brevity of their union didn’t make marriage any less important, but he’d given up hope of marrying for himself, and so it was an easy sacrifice to make to help this woman in such an unforeseen time of need.

Besides, the next few months could be beneficial for all of them—and perhaps could help her heal after her time of grieving. Plus, Archie couldn’t deny it could be nice to have a woman around, even if August would vehemently disagree.

Archie realized the question might be leading to another talk that he was not ready to have that night, but fortunately, August’s curiosity seemed to be satisfied—at least for the time being—and they passed the rest of the evening in relative quiet.

Before they retired for the night, Archie tapped on the bedroom door to check on Ruby. When no answer sounded, he opened the door a crack. The moonlight illuminated the space just enough so that he could make out her form huddled beneath the quilt, shaking with sobs. They were quiet, as if she was trying to hold back, but that made the sound of her sharp intake of breaths, her childlike whimpers, all the more heartbreaking.

Archie paused in the doorway, his chest tight, stuck between wanting to go in and comfort her and knowing that she needed some space—and time. Instead, he closed his eyes and shut the door. When he opened them again, he saw the worried eyes of a nine-year-old boy staring back at him. “Pa, is she okay?”

Archie shook his head. “No,” he said softly, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But she will be.”

 

* * *

 

Archie and August made their way around the side of the house to the lean-to, which would become their home for the next several weeks. Normally, Pongo would sleep in the barn, or near the front door of the house on warmer nights, but Archie decided to let the dog stay with Ruby inside. She’d seemed to take comfort from the animal, and Archie would gladly give her that. It also made him feel better, to have her protected with Pongo standing guard while she was alone in the house.

The air was crisp and the sky was clear as father and son walked side-by-side with Archie’s hand on the boy’s shoulder. Then, he stopped. He could hear the chirp of the crickets as they sent their happy song up to the heavens, and he couldn’t help but gaze upwards. The action didn’t strike August as odd in the least, and he looked up as well, the mirror image of his father.

“Lord,” Archie finally said quietly, his breath foggy in the cool air, “Please be with her. She’s hurting in a deep way that only you can heal.” He paused before adding, “And please show us how we can help her. Amen,” and then looked down to August as he gave him a squeeze.

With a smile—perhaps sadder than he intended, his heart still heavy—they opened the door to their lodgings—their own little bunker, Archie insisted. They’d be like real cowboys. August rolled his eyes at that, complaining that he’d rather be in his own bed, but Archie thought he caught a smile on the boy’s features as he rushed inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short—I couldn't just give it its own week—so I decided to post it as a little bonus. :P I did have a lot of fun writing Archie and August as father-and-son. It was a surprise dynamic that I never knew I needed until I started this story!


	5. The First Two Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby throws herself into her new role as she acquaints herself with the Hopper homestead.

Ruby blinked against the morning light as she slowly wakened to strange surroundings. She stretched and absentmindedly noted how nice it was to wake up on a proper mattress and _not_ the uneven boards of a covered wagon—or the jagged ground. Then, her heart sank as everything hit her with such force that it knocked her breath from her as the icy grip of grief coiled around her heart. She curled into a ball under the covers and, with deep breaths, forced herself to keep the tears at bay. She would not—could not—spend another day crying and feeling sorry for herself.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door, followed by a creak as it nudged open. Ruby’s eyes flew shut.

“Ruby?” When she didn’t answer, the warm voice continued. “I need to go out to a neighbour’s today, and I’m going to take August with me. I’ll leave Pongo here with you. There’s some bacon and coffee warm on the stove, and please help yourself to whatever you find—whatever you need.” A pause, and then, “We’ll be back before dinner. Good day.”

Ruby squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in bed, her limbs heavy. She wanted to wait until the man and the boy were gone before she got up. Even if it was childish, she wasn’t ready to face them—not yet.

Truth be told, if it had only been up to her, Ruby would have stayed under the quilts and slept away the rest of her days until she ceased to exist. It wasn’t up to her, though—even if she didn’t have another soul in this country that cared about her, she had to take care of herself for the baby’s sake. Peter’s child.

Then again, when food was the last thing on her mind a moment ago, the thought of bacon and coffee suddenly sounded divine, and Ruby rose from the bed and made her way into the main living area of the house. The heady aroma of coffee mixed with meat sent her stomach grumbling, and she all but attacked the food on the stove. Without a thought for manners, she grabbed a slice from the plate and shoved it into her mouth, suddenly ravenous. As she chewed, she grabbed a tin mug and filled it with the dark brown liquid to wash down her mouthful with no notice of the bitter taste that she usually sweetened and lightened with cream.

After another mouthful, Ruby grabbed the extra plate on the table and filled it with bacon, along with a biscuit that was part of the offerings on the stove. She glanced around for an obvious hiding spot for the milk and sugar, but realized she couldn’t be bothered as she settled at the table with her breakfast. She could drink some coffee black.

As her stomach began to fill, Ruby’s focus began to wander around the room. She hadn’t noticed much yesterday as she’d made a beeline for the bedroom, but now she let herself take in the new space.

Opposite the main door was a large fireplace made of stone, topped with an ornately carved mantel, and Ruby could picture how cozy the hearth would be on long winter nights. A little clock stood in the centre as if to guard the home, and though she couldn’t tell from her seat, she thought it looked handcrafted with a body of wood. It seemed to be the only decorative item, save for the small bookshelf that stood against the wall on the left, within arm’s reach of a rocking chair. The sight of the books stacked neatly along the shelf—an odd sight in the middle of this rustic cabin—made Ruby remember the wagon she’d left behind, and she shook her head clear of the memories before they weighed on her anew.

Instead, she took note of the cast-iron stove, and Ruby thought it was a strange item for a bachelor to have—although she wasn’t really one to talk. Peter always teased her about her cooking, but maybe with a proper stove to use instead of an open fire…

The rest of the furnishings were simple. She sat at a solid wood table with individual chairs—not the benches that she would have expected. A washbasin on a stand rested by the bedroom door. Pegs hung in between the bedroom and main doors, draped with rope and other useful things. A wooden counter with a deep sink for washing and drawers underneath stood beside the stove, nestled right under a bright window that would let in the golden sunsets. Ruby could picture herself doing the washing after a big breakfast as she watched the little ones playing while Peter started up with the horses in the field, leading them on as they pulled the plough.

Ruby shook her head at herself as she fought back the familiar sting in her eyes and nose.

This house was well set-up, despite the fact that its inhabitants were both male. It lacked a few womanly touches, to be sure—Ruby noted the bare windows once more, along with the lack of rugs or a display of fine dishes—but it was hard to ignore how much it seemed to embody the dreams that Peter and she had shared, had hoped to work towards.

And now she had to share this home with strangers.

Shoving another bite of bacon into her mouth with her fork, Ruby refused to let such morbid sentiments cloud her thoughts. Instead, she went to work on her plan of attack for the space in which she found herself. It could use a good scrub-down, she decided. And it would help to become acquainted with the contents of the cupboards and drawers, if she was to be of any use. Surely Mr. Hopper wouldn’t object to her rearranging some things?

Well, she wouldn’t let anyone say that she couldn’t hold up her end of the deal, at any rate.

After she tidied up from breakfast and washed the dishes with the wash-water that had long since cooled, Ruby began to pull out everything from the cupboards and drawers. Once it was all piled on the table in the middle of the room, she realized she needed fresh water for her task. She quickly spotted a pail hanging up on the wall and grabbed it on her way out the door, praying there would be a pump or a well close-by.

Pongo was waiting on the other side of the solid door, and he greeted her with his tail wagging. “Hello, puppy,” Ruby cooed as she rubbed behinds his ears, and he happily planted his rump on the ground as he basked in her attentions. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me where the pump is, would you?”

Sure enough, the dog was silent, but Ruby was able to find the pump halfway between the barn and the house. The lever moved easily enough, though it wasn’t without its squeaks, and soon a gush of cool water flowed into her bucket. She put her hand under the spout, delighting in the refreshing stream that played over her fingers, and she splashed some water onto her face as she realized she hadn’t done even that much with the proper pitcher and basin inside. The breeze cooled her wet skin even more, and Ruby was amazed at how such a little act could so rejuvenate her warm face and puffy eyes.

Soon she was hauling her bucket back inside, and she couldn’t help but be grateful that she didn’t have to have to get water from a stream any more. She wondered if she should heat the water first, but decided against it when she realized she’d let the fire die in the little stove. She’d have to re-light it for dinner, but she could worry about that later.

She noticed that Pongo had followed her in and was now curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace. She wondered if she should shoo him outside—she wasn’t sure about Mr. Hopper’s feelings about animals inside the house—but surely it wouldn’t hurt. He was no bother, and, truth be told, Ruby appreciated the company, so she decided to leave him be as she began her task with a determination that would make her grandmother proud.

It took most of the day for Ruby to scrub down only part of the cabin. She focused on the cupboards and drawers, first, and then moved onto the other shelves and pieces of furniture while the cupboards dried. They weren’t in a bad state, but the room did benefit from a good scrub-down and airing out. Besides, now Ruby knew where her supplies were as she put everything back just where she wanted, including making sure the coffee beans and coffee-mill were easily accessible. She lined up the brown sugar and salt and flour and cornmeal together and couldn’t help but grin to discover that they also had molasses. She’d also found a blue-and-white ceramic pitcher with milk, and so she’d help herself to a glass in the middle of the day as a treat. She savoured the rich, creamy taste after having only had water to drink for so long, and she swallowed the now-familiar lump that rose in her throat with the thought that the nutrition would be good for the baby.

Ruby finished the last bit of milk from the pitcher, and she brushed aside the guilt at the realization. Surely they had a milking cow in that big barn? She’d have to ask Mr. Hopper about that. The thought of fresh milk every day made Ruby smile, and she threw back her head to drain the cup before she continued on with her work.

The end of the day snuck up on Ruby—which shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering her late start—and her heart started to race when she realized how long the shadows in the house had grown with the red sunlight that poured in from the window above the sink. As if to chastise her, a little cuckoo bird yelled at her from the clock on the mantel as it announced the hour, and she jumped.

“Jiminy _Cricket_!” Ruby yelled as she threw down her washcloth. She hadn’t even started to _think_ about dinner, never mind her frustrations at how she hadn’t tackled half of what she had hoped to do that day.

With more than a few false starts, Ruby finally got the stove lit. She’d have to remember to not let the fire die, in future, because it was a pain in the rear end to coax back to life. She stretched upright after being hunched over and then realized she had no idea what to make. With another glance at the clock, Ruby begrudgingly decided on cornmeal pancakes, since she could make them easily enough, and she knew she had the ingredients.

Soon, the familiar sizzle sounded from the pan as the cakes fried in the bacon fat that she had saved from breakfast. The heady aroma filled the room once more, and Ruby’s stomach grumbled as she remembered she hadn’t eaten since her late breakfast.

When the last pancake was finished and off the pan—her last job done—Ruby’s mind suddenly felt foggy as her limbs weighed her down. For having a short day, all things considered, she’d pushed herself hard, and nothing seemed more inviting than a soft bed. At the sound of wagon wheels coming to a stop outside, she grabbed a cake and hurried to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her as she heard the main door open.

“She’s still in bed?” she heard the young boy’s voice ask through the door, and she closed her eyes as she leaned against the wood.

“No—at least, not all day,” the deeper voice of the father answered. “It looks like she’s been busy.”

“Not _pancakes_ ,” the boy grumbled, and Ruby clenched her own portion of supper in her fist.

“Yes, and isn’t it nice to come home to a hot supper? Now, please wash up before we eat.”

Then, silence, aside from the clangs of dishes and the scrapes of chairs on the floor.

Ruby dragged herself to the bed and nibbled on her smushed pancake. She wasn’t hungry anymore, but the small, round morsel was easily finished. She swallowed the last mouthful, all dry and tasteless as the weight that she’d been fighting all day pressed in on her once more.

Ruby could hear voices outside her door as the last rays of daylight filtered into her room. She lay down on the bed despite the early hour, knowing it was cowardly to hide away. She didn’t have the energy to face them just yet. Her arms ached and the throbbing in her chest threatened to take hold of her again, and she sighed.

With heavy eyelids, Ruby had blessed little time in between wake and sleep to dwell on anything beyond her present surroundings. She’d already spent over twenty-four hours in this cabin, and she refused to think about how many more hours she still had left to fill.

 

* * *

 

A man rode wildly on a horse, shouting, “Prince! Prince!” over and over again, his voice more and more frantic each time. The landscape was dark and foggy as an eerie heaviness settled far as the eye could see. Then, a sharp howl of a wolf pierced Ruby’s heart as she watched, helpless to intervene.

Faster and faster, the horse ran as the rider—Peter, Ruby realized—rode with expertise, though she could _feel_ his heart racing.

Out of nowhere, a wolf appeared and raced towards the terrified horse. He cut in front of the animal, causing it to buck and throw Peter to the ground. The loud _thud_ made Ruby’s stomach sick and she tried to call out to him, but no words came.

The horse vanished, leaving nothing but empty space between the man on the ground and the hungry wolf. Ruby watched, helplessly, as the wolf closed the distance, and Peter’s eyes grew wide as he struggled to shift backwards on his elbows. To Ruby’s horror, the wolf transformed, and instead of seeing a creature an all fours, she saw her own reflection rise up over the injured man, ready to kill.

“No!” Ruby screamed, jumping up, willing her limbs to move.

She awoke to darkness and sprung up, covered in a cold sweat, sitting in a bed in a little room with a strip of moonlight across the quilt. She panted heavily as she took in her surroundings and remembered where she was.

She heard a whine on the other side of the door and slowly crossed the room to open it. Pongo nuzzled her hand with his wet nose, and she sank down to wrap her arms around the animal, unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face as she tried to control her breathing.

It was a dream. A terrible, horrible nightmare. Peter was gone, but he was not killed by wolves. He was thrown from his horse. A stupid accident.

But it was because of _her._

Sobs wracked Ruby as she squeezed the poor animal, her guilt over her own part in her husband’s death hitting her with such force that she could no longer ignore it. “I killed him,” she mumbled into the dark fur. “I let Prince escape, and it’s because of me that Peter is….” She couldn’t say the word, and instead she clung to the dog for a few more moments.

Once she finally collected herself, Ruby stood up and held the door open for Pongo. The dog made his way to the side of the bed instead and turned in place a couple of times before plopping down on the floor.

Ruby chuckled as she closed the door, her nerves still wound tight as she took a deep breath and wiped her cheeks. She could use a guardian from her own dreams. His presence alone made the room warmer, somehow—as if he could keep away the eerie blurriness that seeped into the room at night.

Slowly, Ruby slipped under the covers and fought against any cruel images that attacked her. She was still so tired, and a dreamless sleep washed over her almost instantly.

 

* * *

 

The next day saw the repeat of the events of the one before. As she willfully ignored any memories of her nightmare, Ruby emerged to the remnants of breakfast after Archibald and August left for the day. They returned to a dinner of cornmeal pancakes while Ruby stole away to her room.

The in between hours were slightly different, however. Ruby discovered her trunk of things in the main room, and a quick rummage through her clothes had her deciding that it was a good day for laundry. She changed into one of her cleaner dresses from the trunk as she realized the first thing to clean would be the dress she’d been living in for the last few days.

First things first, she threw some wood into the stove to ensure it would be hot for her water. A quick search around the cabin told her that there was no large kettle for laundry, so Ruby began heating the water in small batches to pour into the big tub. It had her wishing for her grandmother’s copper drum kettle, but at least she didn’t have to make due with a cold stream.

Ruby scoured the house for anything remotely dirty, though she didn’t touch the linens piled neatly in drawers and cupboards. She found some small trousers and overalls and shirts in a heap in the bedroom—presumably August’s—and she threw those into the soapy water along with her dresses. For a moment, she considered checking the lean-to for more clothing, but immediately thought better of it. That was Mr. Hopper’s space.

She stripped her bed and checked the drawers in the bedroom, though perhaps it more out of curiosity than anything else. Like she’d expected, they were filled with clothes neatly piled—at least, the larger shirts and trousers were neat. August’s small items were more haphazardly organized, and Ruby could picture the boy yanking out a shirt with little notice to the mess he left behind.

Would Peter’s child do the same? Or would he be neat and careful with his things? Or _her…_

Ruby shook her head at the thought. There was too much work to be done to be standing over an open drawer and dreaming the day away. Before she could shut the drawer, however, something caught her eye—a hard, shiny surface. Ruby pulled at it to discover a picture frame with glass over the portrait of a beautiful young woman. Her fair hair was fashionably curled and she wore a brooch at her throat—dressed in her Sunday best—and her clear eyes almost smiled at something in the distance, despite her otherwise sombre expression.

Ruby’s heart caught in her throat. This must be August’s mother—Mr. Hopper’s wife. She couldn’t help but study the face for a moment, and her mind flew through a million questions. What was she like? How did she die? How old was August when she passed away? How did she and Mr. Hopper meet?

Then, Ruby remembered herself and shoved the picture under a shirt and pushed the drawer closed. It was none of her business, really, and she had work to do.

Ruby’s arms ached as she hung up the last of the washing outside to dry—a reminder of her busy day before—and she knew she would be even more sore the next day. Still, she’d rather keep busy than give her thoughts a chance to wander, and so she decided to wash down the walls in the cabin with the soapy water, now lukewarm, before she’d start on dinner.

It took her longer than she’d thought to make her way around the small room, but by the time Ruby was done, the horizontal logs, with their chinking in between, shone bright and new. Ruby was pleased with her work, and there was something satisfying about the act of dumping out the old water outside—the dirty water evidence of her accomplishments that day, though there wasn’t as much left to dump as she’d started with, she was sure. She was almost too tired to care that she could only make pancakes for the men again, but she figured they couldn’t really complain, now, could they?

As she hid away in her room that evening while father and son ate, Ruby was partly glad to be able to keep to herself for just a little bit longer—but somehow she was mad at the male presence in the other room. Why should she have to run away when they came in?

Sometimes she was pretty sure she hated him, that tall, red-haired gentleman with glasses who looked like nothing bothered him. Why was she working so hard to clean up a house that wasn’t hers?

Still, as Ruby fell asleep that night, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d tackle tomorrow. And even if she had a plan for that day, what about the day after, and the one after that?

Luckily, she had very little time to worry as she was soon fast asleep—too tired for even nightmares to invade her dreams.

 

* * *

 

As Archie and August pulled up to their home, movement from the side of the house caught Archie’s eye. Fabric—garments, mostly, including a red dress—swayed in the gentle breeze, pegged up on the clotheslines strung up between the trees.

She’d been busy.

When they got closer, the shapeless garments came into focus. He could see a few of August’s things, and Archie warmed at the thoughtful gesture. At least she must be finding her way around the place easily enough. Then, his eyes widened as he realized that some of the white items hanging up were the lady’s petticoats and undergarments. He quickly looked away, a flush creeping over his neck and cheeks, and he glanced at August. Luckily, the boy was preoccupied with greeting Pongo as enthusiastically as the dog was greeting him back.

It was a foolish reaction, and he shook his head at himself. There were some things that he’d have to get used to with a woman around.

The sight was quickly forgotten as Archie got to work with his son to unhitch the horse and get her settled in the barn. Then, they opened the door to the aroma of dinner.

A quick glance at the stove confirmed Archie’s suspicions. Pancakes.

He chuckled at that. He also noticed that August stayed quiet about them this time. Then again, the boy had had a busy day helping in the fields and playing with Emma Nolan, and he gobbled up the cakes faster than should have been polite. Archie couldn’t chastise him for that. Besides, the cakes _were_ good, and his aching muscles and grumbling stomach made him particularly grateful to have a hot meal already prepared.

After a few rushed bites, Archie savoured the rest of his dinner. August’s mouth was too full for them to converse easily, so Archie’s gaze wandered around their home. The walls were patchy—slightly dark in spots, evidence of a washing. He gulped, swallowing his mouthful down as he stood up to investigate further.

The chinking, which should have been bright white, was dark and muddy. He poked at it, and it gave way under his finger as some water dripped down the wall and a chunk fell out.

“Pa, what’s wrong with the wall?” August asked from his seat.

Archie shook his head with a chuckle. “Nothing. Miss Ruby just cleaned it for us, is all.” He turned around and looked around the room. Sure enough, the rest of the chinking was the same colour, and he could see holes starting to form as pieces fell out.

Goodness, she must have been bone tired to have done the laundry and washed the walls— _and_ made them dinner. No wonder she’d made pancakes.

No wonder she was in bed.

Archie’s chest tightened once more as he suspected the reasons behind her cleaning streak. It might be easier to focus on such practical tasks, but at this rate, she’d wear herself out before the week was done.

He returned to the table to finish his dinner as he mentally added “chinking” to his list of things to get in town on his Saturday trip.


	6. A Battle Lost, a Battle Won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby comes out of hiding to discover that her new role as woman-of-the-house might hold more challenges than she first thought.

The next morning, Ruby was determined to fulfill her duties as woman-of-the-house properly—starting with breakfast. She awoke with the first light and forced herself out of bed, as much as she wanted to roll over and hide away under the covers. Instead, she changed into her dress and twisted her hair into a simple bun and pinned it up. There was no mirror in the room, but Ruby knew she could turn heads. She could easily make any frontier farmer proud to call her his wife, at any rate.

Pongo was on the other side of the bedroom door, and he followed her outside and back as she brought some fresh water in from the pump. She poured some water in the pitcher and wash-basin and splashed her face as a last act of vanity—though it helped to refresh her mind, still a bit groggy with sleep.

She cursed her way through getting the stove lit, but once done, she set the rest of the water to boiling as she ground up some coffee beans. Then came the task of what to make for breakfast.

Well, _not_ pancakes—that was easily decided. But what else? She knew there must be plenty of food on this established homestead, but she didn’t know where to start when it came to finding it—or preparing it.

With a sigh, she decided on porridge. Oh, well, just let them complain if they didn’t like it.

There was something cozy about having the house to herself as the early morning light grew stronger, the purple light of dawn turning to a more golden hue. As she moved through her preparations, she thought she heard a funny dripping sound, as if something was falling down—but it came from all over. She couldn’t place it, and with a shrug, she continued on with her work.

Soon, the strong scent of coffee filled the room as Ruby stirred the porridge on the stovetop with the dog sitting beside her, watching her as if she was preparing something for him.

“I’m sorry, Pongo, but this is people-food,” she said with a rub behind his ears.

As she got the bowls and spoons and cups out, she noticed that the chinking that was so bright the day before was a funny, muddy colour. She stepped closer to investigate, and to her horror, realized that the filling between the logs had soaked up all of her wash-water—and was falling all over the cabin!

Just then, the door swung open, and Ruby turned from the stove with a start. Frozen in the doorway stood the redheaded boy with round eyes and his jaw hanging open. His father came up behind him and stopped in his tracks as he locked eyes with Ruby.

“Breakfast?” she asked, holding up the ladle thick with porridge. Maybe too thick.

“I’ve never seen nobody sleep so long,” the boy said as he slowly entered the house. “I thought you might be dead.”

“August!” Mr. Hopper chastised from the doorway as he followed close behind with a pail in his hand.

“Sorry,” August mumbled.

“I’m sorry about that, Ma’am,” Archibald said to Ruby with a nod. “Thanks—thank you for making breakfast. It’s nice to see you up.” He brought the pail over to the table, along with the blue-and-white pitcher, and poured the thick, creamy milk into it. Then, he set the pail by the door. Ruby simply nodded back and turned to the stove to serve the bowls as August and Archibald washed up at the basin.

Ruby tried to ignore the “plopping” that sounded every now and then, which was not hidden by the silence between them. They sat down—Ruby last of all, after she’d handed out breakfast and poured herself and Archibald some coffee and given August some milk. She realized that August was sitting where she’d been sitting the last couple of days, and so she quickly sat in an empty chair by the stove, in between father and son.

She was about to dig into her breakfast until she realized that neither August nor Mr. Hopper had raised their spoons. Instead, they had folded their hands and looked down with their eyes closed. Confused, Ruby did the same as Mr. Hopper started to speak in a steady voice.

“Heavenly Father, thank You for this day, and thank You for this food. Bless it to our bodies, and us to your service. And bless the hands that prepared it.”

Ruby swallowed at that. She was about to open her eyes when the man continued.

“And Father, we thank You for bringing Miss Ruby to our home. Please be with her during this hard time, and may she know Your peace and love. Amen.”

Ruby felt something stir deep inside her with the words and her eyes stung with tears. She blinked them back as she slowly opened her eyes. Archibald gave her a soft smile before he quickly turned to his son, and August just started on his breakfast like it was nothing out of the ordinary to hear his pa talk like that—talking to God as if He was a close friend. How strange.

Ruby collected herself and dug her spoon into her porridge. It was a little harder than she like, but oh, well, it would be filling. She cringed as she took her first mouthful. It required more chewing than porridge was supposed to, considering it shouldn’t really need to be chewed.

She glanced over to see August making a face into his bowl, and she narrowed her eyes at him and silently dared him to do any better. Then, she chastised herself at the thought. He was only a child, and porridge was never a treat at the best of times.

Plus, he might have a point, she mused as she chewed on another mouthful and swallowed. She chased it down a gulp of coffee.

“It’s, uh, nice to have breakfast made for us,” Mr. Hopper finally broke the silence.

Ruby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—or scream, especially when she heard another chunk falling out of the wall. Why did he have to be so nice about everything? His steadiness was unnerving, and so unlike Peter’s teasing. She’d almost rather he just laugh at her for overcooking the oats, or not using enough water, or…

Goodness, she didn’t even know what it was she’d done wrong. How was she ever supposed to make three meals a day for them all, or keep the house clean without it falling apart? The sting returned to her eyes for an entirely different reason, and she willed herself not to cry, especially in front of this man.

“I see you’ve been busy around here, and found your way around a bit,” Mr. Hopper said. Ruby nodded, but said nothing. He took her silence as a sign to continue. “I can show how to use the cold pit, for fresh cream and milk and butter and preserves and ham.” Ruby’s mouth watered at that, and she wondered how she’d missed it. “There’s the attic upstairs, but you have to get to it from outside. It’s only partly full now, but it will fill up with the fall harvest. And there’s the root cellar outside with more vegetables.”

He continued to tell her about the cow and pig and chickens that they had, and when the “killing and curing” would happen—and August piped up that he got to have the tail, whatever that meant—and what kind of provisions she could expect over the winter. He went to town every week, and did she have anything she’d like him to get? She could come with him, too, when she was feeling up to it, although soon enough there’d be fewer trips, depending on the winter weather. They had good crops that had provided good harvests—with some savings—and a decent garden that she could make use of with enough vegetables for what they needed. There would be some wild game for fresh meat during the winter, and there was a stream with some good fishing. There was also something about an apple orchard, but it would not be ready this year. Ruby was disappointed to hear that last bit, because a sweet, juicy, crisp apple sounded _divine_ …

“I still have one more day to help David Nolan with his crop, so I’ll take August with me again.” When Ruby raised her eyebrows, he continued to explain. “You met Mr. Nolan and his wife Mary Margaret at the, uh…” Ruby’s heart sank at the way he almost said “wedding”, but she appreciated how he’d caught himself. “Well, he needs some help, seeing as how he splits his time between his sheriff duties and his own farm. That’s where I’ve been the last few days.”

Ruby nodded again, though she couldn’t think of anything to say, and so she just took a sip of coffee instead. She’d tried to finish her porridge, but the last bit at the bottom of her bowl had become like hard rubber as it cooled, and she couldn’t quite stomach it.

Mr. Hopper got up and helped himself to more coffee, and Ruby chided herself for not noticing his need before he did. He didn’t seem to mind, though, but Ruby noticed he didn’t help himself to more porridge.

“It’s good coffee,” he said as he held his cup up to her before taking a long drink. Well, at least that was something.

A scraping sound came from August’s direction, and Ruby and Archibald looked over to see the boy trying to feed Pongo the last bit of porridge. “Come on, boy,” he whispered to the dog, but the dog just sniffed at it and backed away.

Mr. Hopper chuckled and Ruby groaned. She bit her lip as she stood up. “Just give it to me.”

August gave her sheepish smile as he handed her his dish, and Ruby shook her head as she started to clean up, blinking back tears.

After she was done washing up—which included Mr. Hopper’s dish that she had seen him scraping off outside before he came back in and handed it to her—Archibald showed Ruby the cold box that was at the front of the room in the corner near the door. A rope in the corner—which she’d thought was just hanging up like the others—fed into a trap door. When he lifted it open and pulled, a medium-sized box came up just enough to get into its contents by opening the mesh front. It was enough to make Ruby lick her lips to see the goodies held within. She should have no trouble with breakfast now.

With everything in its place, Ruby followed the boys outside to see them off.

“We’ll be back around suppertime,” Mr. Hopper said as he hoisted himself up beside August. Ruby nodded as she shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand to look up at them.

August leaned over to look her up and down. “Hope you can make us something better than burnt pancakes or porridge. It’s too bad I’ll be gone, ‘cause I can make some real good fried chicken. Pa says mine’s his favourite.”

“August,” Mr. Hopper said slowly, which pulled out a mumbled “sorry” from the boy beside him. Ruby crossed her arms and bit back a remark.

“We’ll see you soon,” Mr. Hopper said. “Oh, and if you feel like doing any more cleaning, all you need to do is brush down the walls with a dry brush to give them a good dusting.” Before Ruby could say anything, he gave her a nod and with a _click_ to the horse, they were off.

So he _had_ noticed.

She sighed to herself as she turned to check on the laundry with Pongo at her heels. It was still damp from the dew, and so she decided she’d leave it until the afternoon to bring in. While she was waiting, she figured she’d get started on preparing the chicken for supper. If a nine-year-old boy could do it, how hard could it be?

 

* * *

 

Archie and August rode home from the Nolans’ in silence—mostly from being tired after a long day than anything else. When the homestead came in sight, however, Archie felt the need to give some instructions.

“Now, I know it’s hard having someone new living with us,” the father started to say with a glance to the boy beside him, “but I need you to be nice to Miss Ruby. She’s been through a lot, and she’s trying to help us out as best she can. It might just take some time for us all to get settled, okay?”

August said nothing, and Archie could sense that the boy’s cheer from spending the day at the Nolans’ was already deflating as they neared their home. Archie sighed, and quickly prayed—not for the first time—that this adjustment period would hasten to an end for both August and Ruby. Still, he knew better than to think everything would be peachy in just a couple of days.

Archie tried again. “Okay?”

“Okay,” August huffed beside him, and Archie knew that was the best he was going to get.

As they neared the house, Archie realized that something was scattered all over the yard. Not just something—feathers.

“What the…?” August exclaimed, equally as puzzled, and he jumped down and ran to the chicken coop as the wagon pulled to a stop. Archie got down and followed the red trail of blood to a nearby tree stump, now stained red. And was that…?

Archie crouched down to investigate, and he couldn’t help but smile as he realized it was a sizeable part of beak that lay in the middle of the stump. Hopefully the poor thing was put out of its misery more quickly than not.

“Pa! Pa!” August came rushing to him, breathless. “It looks like a coyote got in there!”

Archie picked up the beak to show August. “More like a madwoman with an axe,” he teased. August just frowned at him, and Archie stood up and patted the boy’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get Cleo unhitched and then we’ll have supper.”

Against his better judgment, he hoped that Ruby had had more success with the chicken than with the porridge that morning, because the thought of fried chicken already made his mouth water.

Still, he held his breath when they swung open the door to the house—especially when he noticed the floor covered in white and brown feathers.

Ruby turned nonchalantly from the stove to face them, a plate in one hand and a spatula in the other. “Good, you’re home,” she said, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Supper’s ready.”

Archie wasn’t sure, but he thought he caught a smile of delight on August’s face before he remembered himself and crossed his arms, his expression severe. “Good, ‘cause I was getting awful tired of pancakes.” Archie gave the boy a shove at that as he cleared his throat.

“Me too,” Ruby nodded. “Chicken?”

 

* * *

 

If she didn’t know any better, Ruby would have said that her shoulders relaxed when Mr. Hopper and August walked through the door. Maybe it was just because she felt her luck was finally changing when she found a recipe for fried chicken in their books, or maybe it was because she’d actually managed to capture the little beast, kill it, pluck it, and prepare it—and the final result didn’t look half bad, if she did say so herself. And, on top of all that, it smelled _good_. They didn’t have to know that her attempt at biscuits had ended in rock-hard pucks that she’d had to bury because they wouldn’t even burn in the woodstove.

The real test was in the tasting, however, but she passed with flying colours when the men helped themselves to second servings—and August even asked for a third. She raised her brows at him as she served his plate, and he mumbled something about it being good, he supposed, and Ruby bit back a smirk.

“So, you’re all done helping Sheriff Nolan?” Ruby asked as she tucked in to her own second helping, more hungry than she’d been in awhile. This little one could never make up his mind whether he liked food or not, but Ruby was going to take advantage of her sudden appetite.

Mr. Hopper looked up from his plate. “Yes, and next week he’s coming to help us with the pig. We’ll have bacon and ham to last us awhile, and he’ll take some home to Emma and Mary Margaret and baby Leo.”

Ruby nodded as she made note of everyone’s names. She’d met Mary Margaret and David, but she didn’t remember meeting their children.

“Oh, and we brought your things from your wagon,” Archibald added.

Ruby’s heart lurched and she paused mid-bite. Then, after a hard swallow, she asked, “Oh?”

“They’re in the barn,” he said as he tilted his head in that direction. “I can show you after supper.”

“Thank you,” Ruby said softly. She hadn’t even thought about her things in the busy-ness of the last couple of days, but it would be nice to see them. At some point.

Before she knew it, supper was over, and Ruby was following Mr. Hopper’s long strides to the barn. Ruby realized there was so much of this homestead that she hadn’t seen yet—though she’d become a little _too_ well acquainted with the chicken coop, as far as she was concerned. She started to panic when she noticed Pongo playing with a certain burnt biscuit that he’d dug up, but Mr. Hopper didn’t seem to notice as he swung open the big door.

Any thoughts of her unorthodox cooking methods flew from her mind as she adjusted to the dim light in the barn. Tears welled in her eyes as she saw her and Peter’s familiar trunks and crates in these strange surroundings. She lifted one lid to reveal the spines of dozens of books, all neatly lined up. She pulled one out and held it to her chest before caressing the cover with her fingers. “The Adventures of Pinocchio” stared back at her, embossed with gold.

“I checked to see if there was any food that would spoil…” Archibald trailed off as he took a step closer to Ruby while still leaving some space.

“We planned on buying supplies when we settled,” Ruby said in answer to what he implied. If anyone else had said the words, she knew they’d hold fierce judgment against her and Peter’s naïveté. Even after a few days in the frontier, she knew they’d been woefully unprepared to eke out a living from scratch in this land.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet the eyes of the man standing beside her—so unlike Peter. This man was solid and steady where Peter was impulsive and carefree. Still, the blue eyes looking back at her held such sympathy that it made tears well up even more, to be met with kindness from a perfect stranger, and she had to look away before they spilled over.

Her gaze then fell on the case beside her trunk, and her chest tightened when she thought of all of Peter’s blacksmith tools packed away—never to be touched by his hands again.

“Books must be pretty important to you,” Archibald said, breaking the silence. “We’ll see if we can find space for them in the cabin.”

Ruby stood for a moment in the stillness. She could picture the bookshelf inside, and she knew she wasn’t the only one who appreciated literature. Still, her books would fill that case a few times over.

Ruby sighed, suddenly feeling very heavy again. “I’m—I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me,” she said quietly without looking up.

“Come with me,” Archibald said, and Ruby glanced up to see his arm outstretched. She slipped the book back into the empty space and closed the lid before stepping beside Archibald, and he guided her outside by her elbow. Then, he dropped his hand as they both stood to face the chicken coop, where August was laying out a bedding of hay with a pitchfork that was almost as big as he.

“August is nine years old. He works almost as hard as I do, sun-up to sun-down. Has been for the last couple years. He never complains, but the work is stealing his childhood. He doesn’t know what he’s missing”—he paused to turn to face Ruby—“but I do.”

His voice was steady and gentle, and filled with love for his son. Ruby felt a pang of guilt at how she’d thought of the boy over the last couple of days, and she couldn’t meet Mr. Hopper’s eyes as he continued to speak—though she couldn’t bring herself to watch the boy for too long, either.

“Maybe if somebody’s there to share the chores, he’d have time to learn—some of the things I think you could teach him. Things he’d learn from his mother.”

Ruby crossed her arms around her middle, struck by the weight of what he was asking of her. She couldn’t decide if she was grateful that he thought so highly of her or frustrated that he might be greatly overestimating her skills. It was too late to back out, anyway, but something was missing from this equation.

“And when I go home? In the spring?”

Archibald licked his lips and glanced back at August before looking back at her. “Well, I, uh—I figure I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” He gave her a nod, his lips almost curved upwards in a smile as he turned to walk away.

One last thing niggled at Ruby. “The books”—she turned to face Mr. Hopper as he stopped and looked back at her—“how did you know they were mine, and not—not Peter’s?” The name burned her lips.

“Oh, well, a man would’ve thrown them off the wagon at the first big hill,” Archibald replied matter-of-factly. “Unless he was trying to please a stubborn woman.”

Ruby thought she caught a smirk playing across his features and a hint of amusement in his voice as he continued on his way. She found she was too tired to be angry, though, and besides—it held more than a hint of truth.

Oh, how did he always seem to be right?


	7. A Clash of Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions between Ruby and August come to a boil as they struggle to work together.

The days began to pass into each other until Archie realized that it had been a week since Ruby’s husband had passed away. Funny how it felt like even less time had passed, and yet, it felt like another lifetime ago. He couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for her.

Archie wasn’t sure if he should say anything or not, and so he decided to just watch her for a clue to see if any condolences would be welcomed. She seemed cheerful enough when he entered the cabin that morning, but he could see the droop in her shoulders as she poured his coffee.

“Thank you,” he said as his eyes met hers, and he hoped she could read his sympathy. She gave a polite smile and nod in return, but he noticed the smile didn’t reach her green eyes. Later, as she was washing up by the window, he noticed how she stopped mid-action and stared out the window for a moment. He went over to her and, with a slight pause, put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. Quickly, he removed his hand, and she looked at him over her shoulder. He was relieved to see her smile sincerely at him, her eyes glistening with tears. Then she looked away.

A couple of days later, Archie realized that it marked the week since they’d been married—since she’d come to live with them. Under normal circumstances, he supposed most people celebrated that sort of thing, or at least acknowledged it. Theirs was not a usual marriage, however, and Archie knew better than to bring it up, though he suspected she must have thought about it once or twice.

Did she?

At any rate, she seemed to slow her pace to a more sustainable workload with each passing day. Slowly, she and August began to spend more time together as well, and Archie hoped that they were getting to know each other better—and, by extension, getting along better. He quickly learned that the woman had a stubborn streak to match that of his boy, and it was a great relief to know that Ruby could hold her own against August. Maybe there was some great act of Providence in bringing her to them than even he realized.

 

* * *

 

Ruby wasn’t sure of the day at first. All her days seemed to blur together, and she was amazed at how quickly she became accustomed to sharing meals with Mr. Hopper and August. The day that could not be forgotten, however, was the one that marked a week since Peter’s accident. How was it possible that only a week had passed? She could have sworn she’d lived in this cabin for years, but she also had to remind herself each morning that Peter was not coming back from fetching the horses or some other silly errand.

He was gone.

Still, the deep ache grew a little less each day, though it never went away. At least she had a warm bed, and a roof over her head, and hot meals. She worked hard for them, to be sure, but the work in itself was a blessing, to keep her mind busy along with her hands. As much as she tried not to dwell on Peter, she also appreciated the small smiles that Mr. Hopper would give her. She was glad he didn’t say anything, but somehow she knew that her struggle was not forgotten. Somehow, that helped.

Before she knew it, Archibald was reminding her at supper that the next day was Saturday, and did she need anything from town? Ruby inwardly chastised herself for not being more prepared, and promised she’d have a list for him ready in the morning before he left.

Then, a thought dawned on her. “Are you able to post letters from Storybrooke?” She already knew the answer, since she had sent one off when she and Peter had arrived in town. Her heart ached anew with the realization that so much had changed in a few short days, remembering how her heart was near bursting when she had sent off the news to her grandmother that their long journey had finally ended.

“Yes,” he affirmed, his voice softer, and Ruby dropped her gaze from his, reading in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was asking.

She was relieved when Archibald and August retired to the lean-to shortly after supper, leaving Ruby to her letter-writing in the glow of the fire and a candle on the table beside her. It felt like another lifetime ago when she had scribbled out her hopes and dreams—finally becoming a reality!—and sent them off at the counter from where she imagined Peter would soon be buying supplies for their new homestead.

Now, she chose her words carefully, fighting back tears as she tried to keep her words legible from an entirely different kind of emotion. She didn’t know how to describe all that had happened without making her grandmother worry, but she did her best to assure her that she would be taken care of during the winter.

 

_And with all this, Granny, comes one last bit of news. I had hoped to tell you under happier circumstances, but I shall have to settle for cold words. I am expecting a child in March_

 

—Ruby paused and bit her lip as she realized her grandmother was the first soul to which she had revealed her secret—

 

_and so you can rest assured that I will do everything in my power to come home safely to you as soon as I am able._

_With all my love,_

_Your Ruby_

 

Ruby quickly folded the letter and addressed it, leaving it on the table for Mr. Hopper to collect in the morning. Her heart ached with the knowledge that her joyous letter would be quickly followed by such tragedy, and Ruby allowed herself a brief moment to curse the distance that separated her from her granny, to imagine her grandmother’s arms around her while she rocked her and stroked her hair….

When daylight came, Ruby was glad for the solitude with Archibald and August gone for the day in town. She was even more pleasantly surprised when he announced on Sunday morning that they would be gone for most of that day, as well.

“It being the Lord’s day, I usually go off and spend some time in prayer and reflection,” he explained in between sips of coffee. Ruby tried to hide her surprise, but she found it strange that he was so committed to religion so far from any church. She and Granny attended church services in Boston, but she didn’t think much of it beyond sitting through the preacher’s long message once a week.

Ruby packed up lunches for them both and made sure that August was bundled up against the chill of the early October morning. Mr. Hopper tipped his hat to her with a smile as they headed off towards the creek, and Ruby let out a sigh of relief as she closed the door to the cabin, the prospect of another day to herself making her feel lighter.

Then, she realized she must have missed the Sunday before, and did she work through the holy day? Would Archibald chastise her for not keeping it? She scrambled to think of what she should or shouldn’t do, finally deciding that mending couldn’t be considered work. She would go crazy if she was expected to do nothing, all by herself, especially with so many jobs needing to be done.

Oh, well, no harm done if Mr. Hopper was kept in ignorance, and besides, he should have said something if it was of true importance.

Ruby spent the Sunday with tasks she deemed “light” enough, and it was just enough to keep her from picturing Granny receiving her letters, and wondering what was happening back in Boston. To her surprise, she was happy to see the day over, knowing that she could return to routine come Monday morning. She knew she’d be too busy keeping up with August to have time for self-pity.

 

* * *

 

So far, her chores had kept her close to the house, but she was determined to hold up her end of the bargain. And so, one morning she followed August into the chicken coop. She tried to keep the grimace off of her face as the sour smell hit the back of her throat.

August was spreading feed along the floor from a pail. “Why are you here?” he asked without looking at her.

“I—I thought you could use some help,” Ruby replied calmly, already sensing his irritation. “What would you like me to do?”

“You might need a place to stay, but I don’t need a mother. Pa and me, we’re doing just _fine._ ”

Ruby started at his unexpected, brutal honesty. She knew there was no way to reply without inviting more conflict, and so she focused on the task at hand. “I’m a little unsure of what to do,” she said, praying that honesty—and an appeal to his higher knowledge—would smooth things over. She peeked into one of the little shelves as if to prove her point. “Why don’t you show me how to get those eggs out from underneath their—you know…”

“Their _rears_?” August asked incredulously.

Goodness, she hoped this would work. She couldn’t stand being thought a fool by a nine-year-old.

The boy stuck his hand underneath the chicken, his eyes fixed on Ruby, and pulled out an egg. He held it out to her with a sigh like it was the easiest task in the world.

Ruby wasn’t convinced, but she slowly put her hand underneath the feathered creature—trying to ignore the fact that she’d just killed one of their bedmates—and clasped her fingers around a smooth, round surface.

“Aha!” she exclaimed as she yanked it out, earning her a squawk from the chicken. August simply rolled his eyes and walked off with the basket of eggs, leaving Ruby alone in the coop holding her prize.

“Well, thank you for your contribution to our kitchen,” Ruby said with a mock bow before she left the coop to put her egg with the others.

She couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at August as she saw the boy come out of the cabin and walk towards the barn. She _would_ win him over, whether he liked it or not.

Still, it was harder than even she imagined it would be, to try to convince him to let her help him with chores—never mind the task of getting him to do simple school lessons.

One day, Ruby was squatting on a stool underneath Flora, the milking cow, while August sat perched on top of the stall with his slate and chalk. She’d heard that cows were gentle creatures, but being so close to one’s hooves had Ruby thinking otherwise. She was determined to master one of the simple chores, however, and so she took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves.

“Spell ‘cow’” she said as she tried to figure out the best way to squeeze the milk out into the pail.

“K…A…” August started, before trailing off.

“Close. It’s ‘C-O-W’,” Ruby finished. She tried to keep her frustration out of her voice, but it was hard to ignore the fact that she was at the mercy of an animal that weighed hundreds of pounds and she was about to touch its most sensitive area.

“Flora don’t care if I know how to spell,” August huffed.

“Flora _doesn’t_ care,” Ruby corrected, her eyes fixed on the soft pink udders in front of her, “but I do. And so does your father, so let’s trying another one. Spell ‘fun’.”

“F…U…”

Ruby finally gathered the courage to press her fingers to the cow’s tits—but she wasn’t prepared for the loud “moo” that Flora let out with a stomp of her foot, and Ruby jumped back, landing in the soft hay.

“How do you spell ‘warm’?” August asked as he looked down at Ruby.

Ruby stood up and brushed the hay off her skirts, glaring at the cow before she settled back on the stool. “Warm? W-A-R-M.”

“I think you’d better W-A-R-M your hands.”

“What?” Ruby turned to look up at the boy.

“Well, how do you expect her to give you good milk when you’re freezing her like that?” August leaped down from his seat and came over to Flora as he waved Ruby away. She jumped up to see him sit down on the stool and wrap his hands around the udder and pull gently in one fluid motion. Sure enough, the _hiss_ of the milk hitting the pail underneath came in even bursts as Ruby gawked from overhead.

“How’d you get to be so old and not know how to do nothing?” August said as he looked up to Ruby.

Ruby gasped and glared at the boy as he turned his head back to the pail. After she took a deep breath, she pivoted on her heel, leaving the boy to his milking while she headed towards the house before she said something she’d regret.

Tensions only grew more heated before they really boiled over later that day. Ruby had given up on trying to work with August, and so she made herself busy by watering the troughs for the pig. August was inside the pen, cleaning it out with a wheelbarrow and a shovel. Ruby couldn’t help but be relieved that she didn’t have _that_ job, and she smiled to herself despite her weary limbs as she turned back towards the pump.

Then, something whacked her square in the back. She twirled around to see pig dung on the ground, and the smell hit the back of her throat as tears stung her eyes.

“That’s it!” Ruby cried as she rushed towards the gate, and all she could see was red as August glued his eyes to the ground as he exaggerated his motions with the shovel.

Ruby got to the gate, ready to jerk it open, but it wouldn’t move. She shook the thing violently, but it wouldn’t budge, and she blinked back hot tears as she focused on the redheaded brat inside.

“I swear I didn’t mean to,” he said with very little effort to hide his smirk that told her all she needed to know.

“I know _exactly_ what you meant to do, mister, and now you listen to _me_!” She jabbed finger at the boy as her anger and frustration and hurt erupted all at once.

August narrowed his eyes, the grin gone from his features as he took even strides toward her and crossed his arms. He didn’t seem to care that she was taller than him as he met her glare with one of his own. “I don’t _have_ to listen to you!”

“As long as I am here—”

“I don’t _want_ you here!”

“Well I’ve got news for you!” Ruby raised her voice each time August talked back, and by this time, she was shouting at the top of her lungs. “I don’t want to be here!” She took a deep breath before her words tumbled out, harsh and pointed. “But the fact of the matter is I made a bargain with your father, and I intend to keep my end of that bargain, even if you do everything short of trying to _kill_ me in the process. So the way I see it, if I can survive travelling for _months_ in a covered wagon, losing my husband, marrying a complete stranger, I can survive _you.”_

They both stood for a moment, breathless, almost nose to nose as they glared at each other, daring the other to break eye contact.

Finally, Ruby pivoted on her heel and walked with steady strides to the house, stooping to pick up the bucket on her way. Her breath hitched in her throat when she thought she saw Mr. Hopper walking towards her from the field, and she hoped he hadn’t seen that little act. She kept on going as she stopped only to yank open the main door. She dropped the bucket on the floor somewhere in the main room before she swept in the bedroom and slammed the door.

Tears ran down her cheeks as Ruby leaned her back against the door. She slid down and covered her face in her hands. What was wrong with that kid? And what was wrong with _her_? She was so embarrassed to lose her temper to a child like that, and she tried to wipe away her tears and snot and only ended up making a bigger mess of herself.

Were all kids like that? Ruby settled one hand on her stomach as the back of her other hand rested under her nose. No, Peter’s child would never be like that. She’d never raise her voice in such anger to her little one.

The realization washed over Ruby that she had to tell Mr. Hopper that she was expecting. But how? There never seemed to be a good time, and she’d been so focused on finding her way around this place and taking care of two strangers…

Ruby’s sniffles started to stop and her breathing started to come evenly until her heart stopped with one thought.

She was Mrs. Ruby Hopper now.

Her baby would have that strange man’s name and there was nothing she could do about it. By law, she and her child were attached to that man.

What if he went back on his word? What if she couldn’t take her baby home with her?

“Oh, I hate him!” Ruby cried before she dissolved into a heap on the floor, sobbing into her arms as she hugged her knees close. She hated him for tying her to him, for making her live under his roof, for sticking her with his unruly child, for taking away her own identity… .

For being everything that Peter was not.

After a few moments of heavy tears, Ruby took a deep breath to control herself. She wiped her eyes as she hiccupped a couple of times. “He will have his father’s name,” Ruby said aloud, as if to make it final. “Peter Henry Smith.” Even if he did have to add “Hopper” at the end.

A quiet knock sounded at the door, and Ruby jumped up. She wiped under her eyes and pinched her cheeks before she slowly opened the door.

She was expecting to see the older man standing before her—not the small boy with his hands clasped behind his back.

“I’messry,” he mumbled.

A cough sounded from the stove, and Ruby looked over to see August’s father watching the scene play out. Ruby didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said again, more loudly and clearly.

“And what are you sorry for?” Mr. Hopper prodded.

“I’m sorry for throwing things at you. It will never happen again.” Only when the words were out of his mouth did he look up and meet Ruby’s gaze.

He seemed sincere enough, despite the obvious encouragement from his father. Ruby didn’t know what to say—she didn’t trust herself to speak just yet—and so she simply nodded.

“Alright, August, now go and finish your chores,” Archibald said sternly with a nod to the door. August scurried away, clearly relieved to give Ruby some space—though not as relieved as she was to be free of him for a few minutes.

Ruby slowly made her way to the kitchen table to join Archibald as he turned to the stove to make the coffee. She stood by the table, unsure if she should sit or start to make supper.

“I’m so sorry about him, Ruby—Ma’am,” Mr. Hopper said as he turned to face her. “He’s not usually so…”

“Rambunctious?” Ruby tried.

“…rude,” he finished with an apologetic smile.

Ruby couldn’t help but smile softly in return. Truth be told, August was far from her thoughts. At the present moment, she was searching for the words to tell Mr. Hopper that there would be another rambunctious one on the way.

He seemed to notice she had something to say as he kept his eyes fixed on her.

She couldn’t do it.

She glanced down, and he said he’d fix dinner that night. Ruby felt a pang of guilt in her stomach, knowing that she’d thought such awful things about this man only moments ago, but her shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly as she sat down.

She couldn’t do that, either, and soon, she was up helping Archibald fix a supper of eggs and biscuits as she tried to forget the rest of the day.


	8. A Welcome Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby begins to relax slightly when she's thrown together with Mary Margaret, and Mr. and Mrs. Nolan make a study of their neighbours.

Well into Ruby’s third week at the Hopper homestead, Ruby noticed that August was particularly bouncy one breakfast. It didn’t take long for Mr. Hopper to explain that that day was the first day of preparing the hog for winter—that is, the butchering, he added when he saw Ruby’s furrowed brow—and that David Nolan would be coming over with Emma. Ruby wasn’t sure why that would make the boy so excited, but then she remembered his comment about getting the tail of the pig. Perhaps there were more treats to be had.

She’d never been part of this “killing and curing”—Granny always got her meat from the butcher’s, already prepared. She shrugged it off as a male interest, though she would be the first to be grateful to have plenty of meat over the winter.

Then, it was Ruby’s turn to be excited—or at least greatly pleased—as a wagon rolled up to reveal the entire Nolan family. Ruby couldn’t believe how her heart lifted to see another woman, and she prayed that they’d have some time alone together as she welcomed the visitors inside.

Ruby froze when she realized she didn’t have much to offer them, but fortunately, it didn’t matter in the least as the menfolk headed straight out to the barn and the children traipsed off to the yard to play, leaving Ruby alone with Mary Margaret and baby Leo inside. Besides, Mary Margaret had brought a basket of goodies with her, and Ruby shot her a grateful smile as she took the offerings from her friend.

“I wanted to give you some time to get settled, so that’s why I haven’t been over sooner, but I thought today would be the perfect chance to visit,” Mary Margaret explained as she sat down at the table with the baby in her arms. Something in Ruby stirred at the maternal sight, and she couldn’t help but rest her hand over her abdomen.

Quickly, she turned around to the stove before she risked giving away her secret. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you, but would you like some coffee?” Never before had Ruby so wished she’d learned to bake properly, and she felt ashamed at her lack of hospitality as she transferred the small cakes that Mary Margaret had brought from the basket to a plate.

“That would be lovely,” Mary Margaret beamed, and Ruby felt her tension melt away. “Thank you.”

As Ruby brought the coffee and things to the table, she nodded to the baby in her friend’s arms with a smile. “And how old is he?”

“Six months,” Mary Margaret replied. Ruby counted backwards as she added cream and sugar to Mary Margaret’s cup after a nod of affirmation. If her calculations were correct, Leo was born the same time of year that her own little one was expected. She thanked her lucky stars that their closest neighbour was not only a woman, but a mother, and Ruby felt a little less apprehensive about what lay ahead of her come early spring.

Still, she wasn’t ready to reveal her situation just yet, and so she was grateful when the conversation turned to more casual topics, like the weather—it had been an unusually dry summer, but luckily not too detrimental to the crops, though enough to yield a smaller harvest than they’d hoped for. Ruby found she enjoyed the conversation that flowed smoothly—though she jumped at the squeal that came from the barn before an eerie silence fell—as she learned more about her new friend and found they had many things in common. Mary Margaret and David had come west from Wisconsin shortly after they were married. Emma arrived soon after they settled down, and David was able to build a homestead. The town was growing steadily, and so David found himself with the duties of sheriff about a year ago—though only part-time—as he continued to support his growing family with the farm.

“You must be busy,” Ruby said warmly as she got up to check on the stove.

“Yes, it’s certainly not easy, but it’s no more than anyone else must do—folks know that it’s a hard life out here, and so they always help each other as best they can.” Mary Margaret smiled at Ruby, her eyes kind, and Ruby felt the warmth that was hidden behind what she didn’t say. She pushed aside the image of Peter’s funeral and the townsfolk who had come to lay him to rest properly. They were all strangers, but there was a warmth to their stoic presence, an acknowledgement that though this land was unforgiving—that certain things happened and must be done—they could still lend a hand of support. Life would go on.

Ruby swallowed as she threw another log in the woodstove. She noticed the pile of ashes was rising, and made a mental note to clear away the debris before she lit the fire the next morning.

As if reading her mind, however, Mary Margaret spoke up. “I’m sure you know, but be sure to keep the ashes for soap-making.”

Ruby turned to face her. “Soap-making?” The only soap Ruby had used back home came from the store.

Mary Margaret smiled. “Yes, the fat from the hog will be saved and used to make soap, along with the lye from the ashes.” Ruby must have frowned, because Mary Margaret added, “Would you mind if you came to help me this week? After the hog has been prepared? It will go twice as fast with the two of us, and as long as you can get to my place, we can make soap together. I would love the company.”

Relief washed over Ruby as she broke out in a smile. “That would be perfect,” she replied. “I’ll check with Mr. Hopper, of course, but I don’t think he’ll mind.” She hated to be so obvious in her ignorance, but it meant the world to her to have a kind soul as an ally who would show her what to do. Would she ever know what she was doing?

She was also glad that Mary Margaret didn’t seem to notice that she referred to her own husband as “Mr. Hopper”.

August and little Emma burst in the door, and August was waving around a curly piece of flesh that made Ruby’s stomach turn. She quickly turned away as she gagged with her hand over her mouth, thankful that that was her only reaction. “Look what we’ve got!” he said proudly.

“Hey, no fair!” Emma cried close behind, breathless as she caught up to her friend. “We’re supposed to share!”

Mary Margaret was quick to take control of the situation. “You can _both_ have some,” she said firmly as she rose to put the baby in his bassinet, which rested on the table. “But first—lunch.”

A moment of panic washed over Ruby, but before she could say anything, Mary Margaret began pulling packages out of her basket. “I wouldn’t be much of a neighbour to descend on you without warning and expect you to feed us all,” she chuckled. Ruby smiled as she helped to unwrap the parcels—sandwiches and cheese with some apples. The apples especially held Ruby’s attention, and she tried to show restraint when her eyes widened at the unexpected treat.

Perhaps this little guy already had a favourite food.

Since it was an unusually warm fall day, they decided to break for lunch outside. Ruby brought a blanket out and spread it out under the oak tree close to the house as Mary Margaret handed the sandwiches to the men. From the state of them, it was better that they not come inside, anyway, Ruby thought to herself with a chuckle.

The lighthearted picnic brought Ruby out of her thoughts as she watched the Nolans and the Hoppers catch up like old friends. Emma and August soon excused themselves and ran off with an odd-looking ball—the pig’s bladder made an excellent balloon, Mary Margaret explained with a whisper, and Ruby nodded her thanks. Her heart warmed at the sound of their laughter that carried over on the breeze, and for a little while, Ruby could forget herself in the cheery scene of domesticity.

The brief “adult time” was interrupted when the children remembered their treat waiting for them inside. “Alright, alright,” Mary Margaret laughed. She handed baby Leo off to Ruby as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Ruby took him with a smile.

With Leo in her arms, Ruby realized how little experience she had with infants. She rocked the baby and cooed to him while he gurgled and babbled and clapped his hands in amusement, and Ruby beamed down at the bundle in her arms.

Archibald and David excused themselves as they headed back to the barn to continue their work, and Ruby slowly stood up to join Mary Margaret inside. Highly aware of the weight of the baby she carried, she carefully opened the door to see Mary Margaret roasting the curly pig’s tail at the opening of the stove. The children stood still, bending over with faces close to the fire as the fat dripped down with a “hiss” into the embers. Ruby stood by the table and swayed as she watched the domestic scene unfold, feeling so close and yet so distant from this family of circumstance.

Then, the job was done, and after a firm chiding from Mary Margaret to share the treat, Emma and August rushed outside, leaving the women to the stillness of the home. Mary Margaret smiled apologetically as she took Leo from Ruby. “You get used to the craziness,” she said.

Ruby smiled as they both took a seat. Truth be told, this unexpected reprieve from the monotony of her chores was far more welcomed than she would have expected—craziness and all. Still, it was nice to be able to settle in with her friend, just the two of them, after the extended lunch.

“There will be plenty to keep us busy tomorrow, but for now, the pig is the men’s work,” Mary Margaret explained as she adjusted herself to feed her infant son. “So we still have some time for us women. And,” she added with her eyes bright, “I for one plan to enjoy every minute of it.”

Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat at the intimate maternal scene in front of her, with the soft sucking that sounded from a very contented babe as his mother beamed down at him. Ruby hoped it was a glimpse into her future, though she couldn’t let herself imagine too far ahead without the stabbing pain at the knowledge that Peter would be glaringly absent from it.

She blinked back tears, hoping to hide her inner thoughts from the woman in front of her. And yet, part of her breathed a sigh of relief when Mary Margaret asked quietly, “And how have you been doing?”

Ruby chuckled nervously with a sad smile as she wiped away a stray tear, willing her emotions to stay dammed up. “I’m okay,” she admitted.

“Have you been able to find your way around?”

Ruby took a deep breath, unsure of how much she wanted to reveal until she met the woman’s eyes. Something tugged at Ruby to confide in this woman, and before she knew it, everything spilled out.

“I’m still standing, but I feel like I’ve come so close to bringing the house down!” Ruby cried with hot tears—surprised at her frustration rather than heartbreak. “I can barely cook anything but pancakes, and even my cleaning efforts are more destructive than helpful.” She waved her hand to the walls to indicate her handiwork. “Poor Mr. Hopper had to re-chink the entire room after my attempts at cleaning. And I can’t even bake buns! I tried, only to find the results indestructible—I couldn’t even burn them, and Pongo dug them up in the yard. It was mortifying!” Ruby couldn’t bring herself to describe aloud her abysmal interactions with August and how much he rubbed her nerves raw.

Mary Margaret bit her lip in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her laughter. It only proved to escape in a loud snort, and she burst out laughing. Ruby couldn’t help but join in, highly aware of the ridiculousness of it all.

The belly deep laughter did her a world of good, and as she caught her breath, she met Mary Margaret’s gaze to see only understanding and sympathy in her eyes. The baby now fed, Mary Margaret placed him in his bassinet and fastened herself up before she stood and came over to Ruby. Before she knew it, Ruby was wrapped in a warm embrace, and she slowly brought her hands up and clung to this woman who seemed to know exactly what she needed. Silent tears streamed down Ruby’s face, and she held on for a few moments while Mary Margaret rubbed her back. As they pulled away, Mary Margaret murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

As she returned to her seat, Mary Margaret took Ruby’s hand over the table. “I knew it would be difficult, of course, but I didn’t realize things were this hard. I should have done more to help.”

Ruby shook her head to dismiss the woman’s concern, too emotional to say anything. The room seemed lighter, somehow, as an unspoken understanding enveloped them, soothing the loneliness to which Ruby had grown accustomed.

“I’ll tell you what. We don’t have a lot of time, but why don’t I spend the rest of the day showing you some basic lessons? We can make bread, and I can write down all of the recipes I can think of. We can also make a list of things you’ll need from town on Archie’s next trip.”

Ruby felt like a weight had been lifted off of her chest. “Really?” she asked softly.

At that moment she was certain that her friend had wings and a halo, and she breathed a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens for such providence.

 

* * *

 

The women spent the rest of the day bustling about the kitchen, and that evening, Ruby had hot buns to serve with the fresh ribs, a taste of the spoils of the day, along with carrots straight from the garden. She thought she saw Mr. Hopper’s brows rise in surprise, and she felt a small sense of satisfaction at her day’s work. August certainly had no complaints as he gobbled his dinner up in no time—a satisfying end to a full day of activity.

Mary Margaret’s training helped her feel like she might get the hang of life on this homestead after all.

“I’m sorry for the surprise visit,” Archibald said as he looked up from his plate. “I was only expecting David and Emma, or else I would have told you before this morning. I didn’t expect you to make any extra preparations.”

Ruby waved her hand. “It was fine,” she replied. “Besides, it was so nice to see the Nolans again.” She didn’t add that she had been busy with her own training in the kitchen, or how greatly she appreciated the confidante. “How did the butchering go?”

“Good,” Mr. Hopper replied after a swallow of pork. “The meat has been cut up and salted, and some of it is smoking. There will be lots for you and Mary Margaret to do tomorrow. I expect the Nolans will be coming around for the next couple of days. You don’t mind helping Mrs. Nolan with the preparations in here?”

Ruby shook her head. “No, that’s fine. Mary Margaret explained a little bit of the process to me. I’m sure we’ll manage. Besides, it will be nice to have so much meat ready for the winter.”

Archibald smiled at her, and not for the first time Ruby felt like they were settling into some semblance of a routine. Whatever it was, she found she was even looking forward to the next few days of busy work with some female company—and the reprieve of her time alone with the Hopper men.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Ruby’s feet hit the floor with a bit more eagerness. She was actually looking forward to the next day or so, which promised a change from what had become her usual schedule.

Breakfast was simple, with some cold pork and buns, but Mr. Hopper and August didn’t seem to mind. She even shared a smile with Archibald as August bounded up at the smallest sign of wagon wheels outside, rushing to the window to see if their neighbours had arrived.

“August,” Archibald said as a warning, though Ruby could see the amusement written across his features that his serious tone did well to hide. Ruby bit back a smile and dropped her eyes to her plate when Archibald met her gaze, his blue eyes bright.

Soon, the kitchen was a bustle of activity as Mary Margaret showed Ruby how to set up the pots and pans for the preparations ahead. The men had boiled and scraped the hog the day before and started the big pieces of meat salting and smoking outside. Today, the women would work on the smaller bits of meat to make sausage while the children kept out from underfoot.

Ruby’s first task was straightforward enough as she stoked the fire in the woodstove and built it up while Mary Margaret got the baby settled in his basket bassinet. Archibald brought in the lard, which needed to be chopped up before it went into the pots to render. Mary Margaret showed Ruby how to scrape off the brown cracklings off the top of the pot and squeeze them in a cloth to take out the excess lard before saving the cracklings for flavouring.

Despite the aroma of cooking fat that filled the room, Ruby was able to keep her nausea under control—that is, until they began the real task of the day. The extra bits of meat were stuffed into casings for sausage, and more than once Ruby had to hide her face as she gagged as the smell overtook her. She could see Mary Margaret throw her concerned looks, and she tried to smile back or wave away any worry.

One particular wave came on with such strength, however, that Ruby ran outside with her hand clasped to her mouth before she lost her lunch around the back of the house. She closed her eyes and placed her hand on a rough log, leaning against the wall for a moment to collect herself with deep breaths in the cool air before she headed back.

Upon her return, Mary Margaret greeted her with a grin. “For how long have you been expecting?” she all but burst out as she paused from her work hunched over the main table.

Ruby’s eyes widened in horror. “Is it that obvious?”

“No! No,” Mary Margaret said, and her features softened as she noticed Ruby’s worry. “A mother just notices these things,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Ruby shoulders relaxed slightly, but her heart still hammered in her chest. She took a step closer to her friend. “Please don’t say anything,” she begged in a small voice. “I—I h-haven’t told Mr. Hopper yet.” She didn’t know how he was going to take the news when she did finally tell him, never mind how it might look should a stranger be the first to reveal her news.

“Of course not,” Mary Margaret said quickly, her brow now furrowed in concern as her eyes locked with Ruby’s. “But you know, he’ll be thrilled.”

Ruby felt tears well up. “Do you really think so?” she asked softly. “Even with someone else’s child?”

“I know so,” Mary Margaret nodded. “He really is great with kids. I mean, you’ve seen him with August, but he’s also been such a help with Emma and now Leo.” A smile bloomed across her features, and the warmth in her eyes reassured Ruby like nothing else could. She raised her hands as if to embrace Ruby but then thought better of it as she realized they were covered in muck, and both women chuckled at the state they found themselves in.

“This is so exciting!” Mary Margaret exclaimed as they continued to make the sausages. Ruby beamed back, though she still felt the weight of her predicament, as well as the grief that seemed to match her joy in equal measure. Still, she felt significantly lighter to have someone else know her secret—and to hear that the man who was her husband for the next while would not object as much as she feared.

Mary Margaret happily chattered away, and Ruby was more than happy to let her friend carry on as she soaked in all the advice she was given. It was enough to make Ruby feel like things might be okay—and though she was far from grasping all of the practical details, she was grateful to hear some of what she might expect, and it helped to keep her distracted as her hands kept busy.

Still, another worry continued to niggle at her, and Ruby couldn’t help but want to confide in her friend. While Ruby focused on twisting the stuffed sausages into long coils, she finally blurted, “How do you do it?” Only after the words were out of her mouth did she look up to meet the other woman’s gaze.

Mary Margaret’s puzzled expression coaxed a more detailed explanation out of Ruby. “I mean, how do you take care of—raise the children once they’re older?” While she was about to become a mother in one way, Ruby felt like she was already failing her motherly duties that had been thrust upon her just over a fortnight ago, and the fear of failure in caring for two children at completely different stages of life swirled around her until each anxiety became indistinguishable from the next.

Mary Margaret tilted her head. “This isn’t about the baby, is it?” she asked thoughtfully.

The mishaps that Ruby had so carefully avoided talking about the day before spilled out of her all at once—how August kept making snide comments to her, how his attitude was rude at the best of times… when he wasn’t full-blown antagonistic.

Ruby almost regretted her outburst when she saw Mary Margaret looking at her with sympathy that felt a little too much like pity. Goodness, she really sounded a mess. And yet—her heart felt a little more free, to be rid of the thoughts that had grown louder and louder as she had to keep her frustrations bottled up.

“I know how…excitable August can be,” Mary Margaret replied. “He’s a good kid, but he’s also a firecracker. I’d almost be worried about Emma if she wasn’t the exact same way.”

Ruby chuckled and shook her head. She couldn’t imagine golden-haired Emma being half as much trouble as August could be.

“You’ll figure it out. You’re so good with him already, and I think things will become smoother once you both get used to each other. He’s used to just having to answer to his pa, and now that he’s got motherly expectations to live up to…” Mary Margaret trailed off with a knowing smile. “Just be firm, and caring, and with time—things will get easier.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ruby said, half teasing, half serious. She couldn’t help but smile as a stray tear ran down her cheek, and she brushed it aside with her forearm and took a deep breath before adding, “Thank you,” throwing what she hoped was a look of sincere gratitude to the woman working across from her. Then, to lighten the mood, Ruby added, “Do you have any more words of wisdom to impart? It would be nice to learn _some_ things ahead of time. I for one am tired of this whole ‘learning from one’s mistakes’ business.”

Time passed quickly as they rushed to finish the last of the sausages, and before Ruby knew it, the door swung open as Archibald and David came in.

Ruby jumped, fear hitting the bottom of her stomach like a rock as she thought that Mr. Hopper might have overheard her conversation with Mary Margaret. She quickly relaxed, however, when it was clear that they were preoccupied with their own day’s work to heed the women’s talk.

David strode across the room and kissed his wife’s cheek as she playfully leaned away from his embrace. “We washed outside!” he chuckled, and only then did Mary Margaret stand still for a proper greeting.

Ruby kept her gaze on her hands as she grew highly aware of Mr. Hopper’s solid presence standing near the door. Their demeanor contrasted to the Nolans’ so greatly, and Ruby felt a pang of jealousy. Such easy affection was no longer hers—would never be hers—and she twirled her wedding ring on her fourth finger, swallowing the ever-familiar lump in her throat.

There was no time for self-pity as she and Mary Margaret finished tidying up and divided the spoils between the two families. Red faces were smiling despite the exertion of the day, and Ruby couldn’t help but feel genuinely cheerful as she followed the Nolan family to their wagon and waved them off. The scene was happy chaos as David settled Emma into the middle of the bench on one side, and Ruby noticed Mr. Hopper holding baby Leo while Mary Margaret hoisted herself to her seat. Archibald grinned at the baby as he bounced him up and down a few times, and Ruby noticed his gentleness as he handed the baby up to his mother.

Everyone was soon settled, and before David could signal the horses, Mary Margaret called out to Ruby.

“Oh! Be sure to ask about helping with the soap!”

Ruby threw a look to Mr. Hopper who came to stand beside her. “Is that alright?” she asked, hating how she needed a stranger’s permission—and assistance—to do something so basic.

“Yes, of course—I can drive her over on my way to town on Saturday.”

“Wonderful! See you then!” Mary Margaret grinned before the wagon jolted to life.

Everyone waved goodbye as the little family set off, and Ruby chuckled to see Mary Margaret struggle to keep little Emma seated between her ma and pa. Then, it was back to the kitchen for Ruby, which felt particularly quiet as she set to work on dinner. She tried to keep the images of Mr. Hopper with the baby from her mind—refusing to wonder what he would be like with such a fixture in his own house—while Archibald and August caught up on their chores before they all enjoyed fresh ham. Ruby imagined they would tire of pork before the week was through, but for now, nobody complained about the feast.

 

* * *

 

On the short journey home, David Nolan could tell his wife was dying to tell him something. No, she was dying for him to _ask_ her to tell him something. She smiled to herself as she looked down at the baby, while Emma slept against her side, before throwing him a glance with her eyebrows raised.

He shouldn’t ask. He really shouldn’t, but the bigger her smile grew, the more he wanted to know what she did.

After a deep sigh, with his eyes focused on the horizon straight ahead, he let his curiosity get the better of him. “Alright, I give in. What is it?”

“What?” Mary Margaret asked with feigned innocence.

“You clearly have something you want to tell me.”

“I do not.”

David threw a knowing look at his wife, his eyebrows raised, before he returned his gaze in front of them.

“Alright, I do,” she admitted with a giggle.

After a pause, David knew he had to play along, and he couldn’t keep a smile from his lips. “And…?”

“And—now, you have to promise not to tell anyone, but—it looks like we’re going to have another little neighbour in the spring!”

“What?” David couldn’t help but exclaim. “Isn’t that awfully quick?”

Mary Margaret laughed. “From her previous husband,” she explained.

“Huh,” David replied, mulling it over. “Isn’t that something that a man should find out for himself before his neighbour?” The question was half serious, but he couldn’t help giving his wife a smile.

“Yes,” she replied, more seriously. “Yes, of course. But the poor woman is still getting used to everything, and she isn’t ready to tell him yet.”

David simply nodded in return.

“Isn’t it lovely? And a little bittersweet, of course, but still lovely?”

“It sounds like this makes things more complicated,” David countered.

“That’s true,” Mary Margaret agreed. “But I think it will be just the thing to help everyone move forward and to have something positive to focus on. And you know how Archie loves children.”

“And what about when she goes home in the spring?”

Mary Margaret sighed. “Do you really think she will?” she asked more quietly. The implications of what might happen hung between them, unspoken and heavy.

David thought over the last couple of days. It was nice to finally see their friend with a female companion—even if it was not the most conventional of ways to gain a wife—and David couldn’t help but notice the concerned looks that Archie gave the new Mrs. Hopper, or the way he smiled when she did.

“He says things are going as well as can be expected,” David said at last. “I think he might have a soft spot for her already, and she seems nice. But I don’t know her very well. And she only just lost her husband.”

“Yes, of course she is still grieving.” After a pause, she added, “I still think they are well suited,” and David noticed the more serious tone with which she said the words. Then, she looked down at the babe in her arms and said in her high-pitched voice reserved for their son, “But we will just have to wait and see!”

David chuckled as his wife declared the subject closed. He couldn’t help but fear that his friend was already opening himself up to heartbreak, but perhaps some good could come from this strange situation.

They would just have to wait and see.


	9. Little Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A testing day alone with August ends on a sweet note when Archie returns.

The world was still dark when Archie carefully closed the door to a sleeping August and made his way around to the front of the house. He opened the main door and brushed past Pongo who jumped up and followed him to the bedroom, his tail wagging.

Archie paused before he knocked on the door. It was odd, feeling like he was invading a private space, though it was his own home. He hadn’t been in the main house before sunup in almost three weeks, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding on Ruby somehow. He brought his knuckle up to the bedroom door, rapping softly at first, then a little harder when no answer came. Finally, the door swung open, and Ruby squinted as guilt and embarrassment washed over him, his cheeks flushed to see her hair down in a braid and her wearing her shawl over her nightclothes.

“Yes?” she asked as she hugged her shawl around her, her eyes closed for a moment.

Archie dropped his gaze. “Oh, I, uh—I’m s-sorry to wake you, but I need to talk to you.”

“Can’t this wait until breakfast?”

Archie looked up and he thought he saw her eyes widen, but he couldn’t be sure in the dim light. “That’s just it—I w-won’t be at breakfast. I’m heading out now to help a neighbour for the day.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know,” she said quickly and began to shut the door.

“Wait!” Archie said as he stopped the door with his foot. “I’m n-not taking August with me, so he’ll be in your care for the day.”

“That is why I’m here,” Ruby said as she furrowed her brows, and Archie felt another pang of guilt for disturbing her sleep.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbled. Goodness, this was not going well. “I just thought—I mean, I wanted to make sure you’re up to dealing with a spirited nine year old.”

“I’m fine,” she replied curtly, and Archie tried not to wince. “Something else?”

Truth be told, he’d noticed her rush off to vomit during the butchering a few days ago, and he’d been keeping a close eye on her ever since for fear that she was becoming ill. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask—it seemed impolite to enquire. Besides, she seemed spirited enough at the moment—or just plain irritated.

“No—yeah—I mean….” He shook his head before meeting her gaze. “I’ll be back for supper.”

“That’s fine. See you then.”

Before he knew it, Archie was staring at the back of the door with his dog nuzzling at his hand. He took off his glasses and rubbed his hand over his face before pushing them back up the bridge of his nose.

“Come on, boy, I’ll put you with August,” he said, feeling a bit deflated as he made his way around to the lean-to with his dog at his heels.

 

* * *

 

Ruby blinked against the sunlight streaming into the room before she sprung out of bed. The room should not be so bright.

She had overslept.

She bolted up and grabbed her shawl before rushing out of the room, remembering her talk with Mr. Hopper. A quick glance told her that August had not yet come in, and so she raced to the lean-to and threw open the door. Her heart began to hammer when she saw that both the cot and the bed in the make-shift bedroom were neatly made up.

“August!” she cried, trying to fight the panic that bubbled up and pushed out any embarrassment as she ran to the barn. “August!”

She was frantic by the time she rushed into the building. “ _August_!”

“ _Sh-h-h-h-h_!” came a voice from above, and Ruby noticed the rustling of straw before a crop of red hair poked out.

“August, what on _earth_ are you doing up there?!” Ruby gasped as she held her side, trying to catch her breath. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“ _Sh-h-h-h-h_!” he said again, pointing to the corner of the barn just beyond Ruby.

“What do you mean, ‘Sh-h-h-h’...” she trailed off as she turned around and froze at the sight of a black and white creature staring back at her, and a whole different sort of panic began to overtake her.

“Just—come down—slowly,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing tone, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the skunk. “I read that they only spray when they feel threatened.”

August scoffed. “You read that, did you? In one of your _books_? Well, I’m not taking no chances.”

Ruby fought the anger that rose up. Trust him to make a fuss even now. “August, just listen, if you come down now, we can go get breakfast—”

“Nuh-uh,” August said vehemently. “I’m starving and I gotta use the outhouse something fierce, but I am _not_ coming down until he leaves.”

“August!” Ruby exclaimed, unable to bite back her frustration as she turned to look at the boy.

Just then, Pongo ran into the barn, barking up a storm.

“Pongo, no!” August and Ruby yelled together, but it was too late. The skunk sprayed, and they were surrounded with a stench so strong it made Ruby’s eyes water and the back of her throat burn.

Pongo ran away with a yelp, followed by the skunk who disappeared out the door, leaving Ruby to a coughing fit.

“I guess he felt threatened,” August said as he scrunched his nose. With the barn now clear—and, Ruby suspected, with him wanting to get away from the awful stink—August scrambled down from the hayloft and rushed out the door. “Come on! I’ll get the tomatoes.”

“Tomatoes?” Ruby asked as she followed him out into the fresh air. She took deep gulps, though nothing took the taste away from her mouth or the foul odour from her nostrils.

August kept a fair distance from her. “Yeah, a bath in tomatoes will help take the stink from ya’,” he explained. “Didn’t your _books_ tell you that?”

Before Ruby knew it, she was stuck in the pig’s watering trough and covered in squished tomatoes. August stood over her, dumping them in the tub and grinding them into her hair and her arms to release the juice.

Ruby cringed at the cold sensation, thankful that the sun was at least warm. She also noticed the smile that August couldn’t keep off of his lips just under his nose closed off by a clothes peg.

The little brat was enjoying every moment of this.

She fought back hot tears that threatened to spill over, determined to not let him see her cry. What would Mr. Hopper think of her now?

“Are you sure this is going to take the smell away?” Ruby asked incredulously. She half believed he was just making this up for the joy of covering her in squished fruit.

“More or less,” he affirmed as he mashed up more tomatoes over her head. The flesh of the fruit was slimy and cold, and Ruby shivered as the liquid ran down her back and sides. She wasn’t sure which was worse—being covered in cold, red muck or stinking to high heavens. “Some of it’s just going to have to wear off.”

Ruby grimaced. All she wanted was a nice, hot bath in front of the fire and some time alone.

She had to settle for a good rinsing with the freezing well-water before she was able to heat up some water inside and quickly run a washcloth over herself in her room with the basin. She’d have to wait to give her hair a proper washing, and she tried to ignore the stickiness that lingered in her hair as she haphazardly twisted it up and pinned it in place.

August had already help himself to some buns and jam when she came out to the main room, which she realized was more like his lunch than his breakfast when she noticed the time. Oh, well, it would have to do—she was beyond caring now. She just wanted to survive for a few more hours.

August was quite amiable for the rest of the day—though it could have also been because he wanted to put as much space as he could between himself and the woman who was foolish enough to get herself sprayed by a skunk. Still, Ruby would take such little blessings where she could find them, and she focused on her own chores while she kept a watchful eye on the boy from a distance. With so much of their day gone before they had started, Ruby and August rushed to finish everything they needed to do. Ruby tried not to notice Flora’s restlessness as she milked her, though she couldn’t help but know that she was the source of the offending smell. August took care of the chickens, so Ruby didn’t worry about upsetting the coop.

Surprisingly, she grew used to the smell, and by the late afternoon, she didn’t even notice, except for the feeling in the back of her throat. Once the chores were done, and the sun began to dip under the horizon, Ruby tried some schooling with August. She fished out one of her primers from her trunk of books and sat him at the table with it while she went to work on dinner.

“Pancakes?” August groaned as the batter hit the hot pan.

“You just focus on your studies,” Ruby replied. She tried to keep the frustration out of her tone. Truth be told, she was equally disappointed that she had to resort to such a basic meal, but with all that had happened that day, it would have to do. She just hoped Mr. Hopper didn’t mind after his long day.

She found herself staring out the window toward the main yard and noticed how dark it was outside. It was odd that he wasn’t back by now.

Then, she threw a look to the hearth and realized that it was dying out. “August, can you please stoke the fire?”

“I can’t, I’m not allowed. I might burn myself.”

Ruby huffed as she left the pancakes sizzling to stoke the fire. As she coaxed it back to life, she noticed a burning smell.

She lunged for the frying pan as the main door swung open. She grabbed the handle, forgetting to use a towel, and she jerked her hand back as the handle seared her skin.

“Jiminy _Cricket_!” she exclaimed as she jumped back, shaking her hand. Hot tears sprung to her eyes, and she almost didn’t notice Mr. Hopper rush to her side.

“Let me help you. Hold on, hold on—just sit down here,” he said, pulling out a chair. “August, please get some butter, will you?”

“It’s fine,” Ruby all but whimpered, starting to lose the control that she’d fought so hard for all day.

“I’ll wrap it up,” Archibald said, and Ruby took a seat while he settled down in the chair beside her with a clean cloth. August handed the dish of butter to him. “Thank you,” he said to the boy.

“It’s nothing,” Ruby insisted, though her voice was small.

Archibald dabbed at her hand with the cloth. “This will just take some of the sting out,” he explained as he gently rubbed some butter over the palm of her hand. Ruby’s breath hitched in her throat, partly from pain, but partly at the physical contact. Her hand fit into his—wide and strong—while his fingers stroked her palm. It was strangely intimate, and she could feel his calloused farmer’s hands. And yet, for all their roughness, his touch was gentle and caring. She dared to meet his blue eyes before she dropped her gaze and fixed it on their hands. She was highly aware of the smell of him, and she realized this was the closest they’d been as she watched him wrap the cloth snug around her hand.

“There you go,” he said with a nod. Ruby looked up, seeing a concern in his eyes that calmed her heart, and for a moment she forgot all the mishaps of the day.

“The pancakes are burnt,” August said with a scrunch of his nose by the stove, bringing Ruby out of her own thoughts. Her heart sank once more at the reminder of her failures, in which August seemed to revel.

“I’ll see what I can find in the cold box,” Archibald said as he stood up. “And, uh, if I may ask”—he added as he tried to fight a smile that overtook his features—“where’d the skunk find you?”

Ruby groaned and fought the urge to bury her face in her hands.

“The barn,” August giggled with his arms crossed.

As Mr. Hopper turned to get some food from around the side of the house, he instructed August over his shoulder, “August, why don’t you go ahead and stoke that fire?”

Ruby narrowed her eyes at the redhead who quickly turned his back to her as he focused on the fireplace. _You little Pinocchio!_

The boy in her care was a perfect fit for the mischievous little puppet.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was as tense as the food was simple. August and Ruby barely spoke, and the only sound was the clinking of cutlery.

Archie

finally broke the silence. “So, how was your day?” His gaze flitted back and forth at the two of them sitting across from each other, neither looking at the other.

“Fine,” Ruby replied curtly.

“Yeah, fine,” August spat out.

Archie didn’t know whether to sigh or chuckle. Clearly things had not gone as well as he’d hoped while he was away, as evidenced by the scene he’d come home to.

Ruby’s exasperation was palpable as he had tried to calm her down and take care of her hand. He couldn’t deny how his pulse quickened when he took her hand in his—small and graceful—the most contact they’d had since the wedding ceremony.

Archie shook his head at himself. He’d done such an action hundreds of times for others. Why should now be any different?

He focused his attention to the people in front of him and cleared his throat. “I ran into David Nolan on my way home today,” he explained, and Ruby and August both looked up at him. “He reminded us about their annual get-together and wanted to make sure that we’re coming.”

“Is it that time already?” August asked, brightening.

Archie nodded with a smile. “It is.” He turned to Ruby and explained. “The Nolans have a party this time of year so folks can get together before we’re all stuck inside for the winter.”

Silence threatened to hang over the table once more. “We’d understand if, you know, you weren’t up for a party,” Archie added, throwing a glance to Ruby. “It’s up to you.”

“Yeah, you probably wouldn’t like it,” August piped up. “There’s tonnes of people you won’t know. You’d probably like to just stay home. Don’t you think, Pa?”

Archie kept his gaze on Ruby to see her reaction. He was almost as surprised as August when she spoke up.

“Mary Margaret mentioned it when we were making soap together. It sounds fun. You know, I think I will go.”

“Good!” Archie exclaimed. He had to bite back a smile as he noticed Ruby and August both narrow their eyes at each other across the table before returning their attention to their plates. Clearly they all needed to get out of the house before they were stuck inside for the winter season.

As they finished up the last of their dinner, Archie exclaimed, “Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

Ruby’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “For me? Really?”

Archie tried not to grin too widely. “I left it out in the wagon. It’s why I was late getting back,” he explained.

August frowned. “What would you bring for her?”

“Well, why don’t you come outside and see?”

Archie couldn’t keep the bounce from his step as he led them outside, their dishes forgotten at the table. Just outside the door stood the wagon with something large covered by a canvas. Ruby wrapped her shawl around her in the cool air and smiled with a quizzical look. “What on earth is it?”

Archie stood with his hand up to the covering and paused for a moment to look at August and Ruby, their eyes wide in anticipation. “Ready?” he teased. Then, he stripped the cover away.

It took a moment for Ruby to register what she was seeing, but when she did, she beamed at him, and Archie thought his heart skipped a beat. “Oh, a sewing machine! Mr. Hopper, you shouldn’t have!”

Archie’s heart sank a little to still have her calling him “Mr. Hopper”, but he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed seeing her grin as she walked around the wagon to take in the stunning piece of machinery.

“It’s really not much,” he explained. “Mr. Brown was just getting rid of it.” Well, that was mostly true. “It used to be his sister’s, but she left it when she got married a couple of months ago, and he said a bachelor like him didn’t need it. And so…” he trailed off with a wave of his hand. “Do you like it?”

“It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever gotten!” Ruby exclaimed, her gaze transfixed on the cast iron that almost shone in the moonlight.

“Humph. What’s so nice ‘bout a stupid sewing machine, anyway?” August grumbled, still planted to his spot in front of the doorway with his arms crossed.

Archie chuckled and stood beside his son, nudging him with his shoulder. “Hey, you better be nice to Miss Ruby. She might even make you something with this machine.” He looked back at Ruby. “N-not that you have to,” he added quickly. Goodness, he didn’t even know if she sewed.

“Oh, I can make us all a whole set of nice somethings!” she cried, and relief washed over him. She rushed up to Archie and grabbed his arms. “Thank you!” She gave him a peck on his cheek and stood back to admire the machine. Archie felt himself flush, and he was thankful that the dim light hid the colour that he was sure bloomed across his cheeks.

“Well, I’ll bring it in tomorrow,” he promised as he waved them inside. “We just need to decide where to put it.”

They spent the rest of the evening planning out the best space for the new addition after they’d cleaned up from dinner. They settled on the wall in between the bedroom door and the hearth, where it would be close to the light in the evenings, since that would be when Ruby would use it.

Archie watched Ruby and his heart lifted to see her smile so brightly, as if all the frustrations of the day were forgotten. She had the most beautiful smile that made her eyes bright and her whole face light up, like the clouds rolling back from the moon, silvery and ethereal. He hoped they’d get to see it more.

 

* * *

 

Ruby tried to quiet her mind as she lay in bed that night. The day had started out so differently, and she remembered the fear that seized her when Mr. Hopper told her they needed to talk. She was sure he’d discovered her secret, but he thankfully only needed her to watch August.

Then, the day turned into one big mess with each passing hour before Archibald returned home. His presence seemed to calm the chaos, however—or maybe it was just that August knew he couldn’t get away with anything while his pa was around. Either way, Ruby still couldn’t believe that Archibald had brought home a sewing machine. Granny didn’t even have that back in Boston!

Ruby fought back tears that welled up at the thought of all the baby garments she could make with such a machine over the coming months. It wasn’t very exciting to August, Ruby knew, but it meant the world to her.

Then, guilt struck at her heart. How could she be so happy when Peter wasn’t here to share in it? Such happiness felt like she was forgetting her true husband, as if she was betraying him somehow. Ruby felt tears well up for an entirely different reason, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep them at bay. She was too exhausted to spend another night crying.

Her thoughts then wandered to the party at the Nolans’ coming up in a week’s time. Perhaps she’d been too hasty in agreeing to go, but she was also tired of being cooped up on the homestead. It would be nice to get out and see some more people, and at the very least, it would be a wonderful excuse to see her friend. And she could tell her about the sewing machine! Mary Margaret would certainly share in her excitement about her preparations for her little one.

For all his humility, the gift was generous—even if it was second-hand. Ruby bit her lip as she tried to think of how she could thank Archibald. Was there something she could make for him with it? She couldn’t think of anything.

Then she thought of August. Knowing Mr. Hopper the little that she did, she thought that he would be most pleased if she made something for his son. If it was only left to Ruby, she’d rather not pay him any special attentions, but she knew it would mean a lot to the father. Besides, it could help to smooth things over with the little boy. For all the rough waters they’d navigated, Ruby was determined to win the nine-year-old over.

It was decided. Ruby would make a nice vest for August out of one of her old dresses as a peace offering, which he could wear to the party. With visions of patterns dancing before her eyes, Ruby fell asleep, finally having something to look forward to.


	10. The Harvest Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby meets more of her neighbours as all of Storybrooke comes together for one last "hurrah" before winter begins to encroach.

The day of the party arrived, and Ruby found her stomach filled with butterflies. She couldn’t decide what she was nervous about—if it was August’s reaction to her gift, or the thought of meeting so many new people. It seemed strange to prepare for a celebration when the day before had marked one month since Peter’s passing, but Ruby also knew she couldn’t stay cloistered away forever. If she was honest, she was starting to feel ready to get back out into the real world, though the pangs of guilt never went away.

The day before, Archibald had asked if she wanted to visit Peter’s grave. Ruby froze as panic shot through her veins before she vehemently shook her head. “No, thank you,” she choked out. She couldn’t stand the idea of visiting that patch of dirt where she’d cried herself dry. She couldn’t bring herself to see how much grass had already grown in front of the rough wooden cross.

Maybe someday, but not now. Not yet.

She’d taken care to choose a suitable dress of lavender for the party—it wasn’t exactly dark, but it was the closest to mourning colours that she had, and she would _not_ give the folk of Storybrooke any more reason to gossip than they already had. As she fastened herself up, she could feel the fabric pull around her middle where she was beginning to swell. The realization both warmed her through and made her heart beat faster at the thought that she’d have to tell her secret soon.

Shaking her head at herself, Ruby called August to her while his pa was outside. “I have something for you!” she exclaimed, unable to hide the excitement from her voice—though perhaps with too much cheer to counter the grief that threatened to show its claws. She tried to keep herself in check, since the boy would probably not be overjoyed at receiving a new garment.

His eyes widened and he followed her in to her bedroom, though Ruby could sense his hesitancy. He glanced around the room as she shut the door, and she realized that he had not been in his own bedroom since she’d joined him and his pa.

Now she really hoped he’d like his gift.

Ruby opened the top drawer of the chest and carefully pulled out the folded garment. She held it up against her torso so he could see it fully. “What do you think?”

It was a simple vest—it didn’t even have any buttons—but it was made from her green paisley dress. The pattern was vibrant and the colour was bright, and she thought it would be perfect for a little boy—and it would show off his red hair nicely.

She could see a smile creep over his features before his expression dropped as he glanced up at her. “Why would you make something for me?”

Ruby let out a nervous chuckle, starting to feel unsure about the whole idea. “Well, believe it or not, I would like us to be friends,” she explained. “I thought you could wear it to the party, and your pa would be so happy to see you looking so smart.”

She helped him with the vest and stepped back as he shrugged it on to his shoulders. A smile pulled the corners of his lips as he tugged at the edges of the fabric. “How do I look?” he asked hesitantly.

Ruby nodded her approval. “Very handsome. I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart from a proper gentleman in Boston.”

August’s smile widened.

A knock at the door made them both jump. “Ruby? Have you seen August? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Just a minute!” Ruby called back to Mr. Hopper as she flashed a smile to August.

She swept her fingers through his hair and smooth out his vest before turning him towards the closed door.

“Ready?” she asked with her hand on the doorknob. He nodded, and Ruby opened the door to a very puzzled Archibald Hopper.

“August, what are you doing…” the father trailed off as his eyes widened before he broke into a grin. “Golly, August, look at you! You look like you’re ready to meet the president!”

August grinned back at his father’s appraisal. “You like it, Pa?”

Archibald’s eyes met Ruby’s, and his expression softened as he beamed at her. “I love it,” he replied, and Ruby’s heart lifted as she smiled back. She couldn’t help it when his clear eyes brightened and his laugh lines creased around his eyes framed by his glasses.

Archibald turned back to his son and crouched down. “Why don’t you finish getting the wagon ready while I talk to Miss Ruby, hmm?” Ruby noticed how Mr. Hopper resisted ruffling the boy’s hair as he stood up, reaching his hand out before pulling it back, and August bounded away in an instant.

Ruby held her breath as Archibald turned his attention towards her, and she fought the urge to lay her hand on her stomach. Was she showing? No, it was too soon. She really did need to tell him, though, because it wouldn’t be long before she blew up like a balloon.

“I-I have something for you, too,” Mr. Hopper said as he reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small velvet box, and Ruby instinctively clasped her hands together and fiddled with her wedding ring.

She stared at his hands as he opened the box to reveal two gold rings, one larger than the other. Tears welled up, and she tried to blink them back as she focused on the objects in front of her, her mind racing.

_I can’t wear his ring! I won’t take Peter’s off—especially not while I’m carrying his child. You won’t make me, Archibald Hopper._

“I know our situation is unusual,” Archibald began, “b-but I thought this would be b-best to—to quell any gossip.”

Ruby forced herself to look up once more, and her tentative glance from under her lashes met Archibald’s eyes, full of understanding. Her chest felt tight as he seemed to know the impossible situation in which she found herself—in which they both found themselves.

Ruby slowly took the ring from the box. It was clearly meant for her, with its small size, and the dainty engraving on the gold band made her breath hitch in her throat. It was beautiful, and she couldn’t help but think that Archibald had taken such care in picking it out.

Glancing at him, Ruby slid the ring on her fourth finger and nestled it up to Peter’s gold band. It looked dull and worn and thin compared to the new one, but it was no less precious to her. She waited for Mr. Hopper to make a comment about her other ring, but he stayed silent.

She watched him slide the other gold band onto his own finger. Ruby swallowed at the significance of the action, and though she was grateful he had let her put on her own ring, the intimacy of the simple bands hit Ruby anew.

They were, for all intents and purposes, husband and wife.

They stood silently for a moment, and Ruby didn’t dare look up as she studied her hands with the foreign object around her fourth finger. Then, his raspy voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“We’d, uh—w-we’d better get going,” he said as he stepped back and motioned to the front door.

Ruby nodded and grabbed her shawl and bonnet while he grabbed the basket from the kitchen table that held their offering to the festivities—a pumpkin pie, which Ruby hoped tasted as good as it looked.

“When did you have time to make that vest, anyway?” Mr. Hopper asked as he helped her into the wagon.

“Saturday, while you boys were in town,” Ruby answered, satisfied with a job well done and a surprise well kept. August sat up a little straighter as he bounced in his seat.

Archibald nodded with a smile as he made his way to the other side of the wagon and hoisted himself up, with August between them. “Did you say thank you to Miss Ruby?” the father prompted the son.

“Thank you, Miss Ruby.”

Ruby chuckled and realized they looked the part of a regular family. She couldn’t deny there was something pleasant about that, even if it wasn’t true. It felt familiar and predictable somehow.

Mr. Hopper gripped the reins, and with a click of his tongue, they were off.

The Nolans’ homestead was close by, and as they neared the farm, the sounds of the townsfolk gathered grew louder and louder as the collection of wagons came into view. Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to ignore the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach, which she knew had nothing to do with her little one.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should have stayed home. What if she still smelled like skunk? Mr. Hopper had assured her she didn’t. She barely knew anyone, and what if they all stared and gawked at the new “Mrs. Hopper”? She twisted her rings and stared straight ahead as Archibald guided Cleo to a stop with a soft, “Woah”.

“Everything okay?” a deep voice beside her asked from the ground.

Ruby jumped and gave a small smile to Archibald as he offered his hand. She took it and hopped down, her mind racing with everything that could go wrong as he handed the basket to her.

Ruby felt a hand on her back, and Archibald leaned close and whispered in her ear, “If you need to go home at any time, just let me know, alright? We can leave whenever you’d like.” His breath was warm on her ear and his tone was reassuring. She looked at him and nodded with a small smile, and she couldn’t deny how the warmth in his eyes helped calm the flutters in her stomach.

August had already rushed ahead to join the other children as Archibald walked with Ruby to the house, his hand a reassuring presence on her back. Ruby pasted on a smile, deciding it was best to play the part of “Mrs. Hopper” as best she could until she could get her bearings. Her smile turned genuine when she spotted Mary Margaret, who rushed towards her and gave her a hug around the pumpkin pie.

“I’m so glad you came!” Mary Margaret exclaimed as she took the basket from her friend. “Welcome!”

“Thank you so much,” Ruby replied as she followed the hostess to the tables lined with food. The idea of fixing herself behind the table with a defined purpose of helping behind the scenes appealed to Ruby, and she prayed she could stay busy and out of the way.

As if to contradict her intentions, Mary Margaret pulled a petite woman over to them. “Ruby, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Belle Gold,” she said with a grin. “Belle, this is Archie’s…”

“I’m Mrs. Hopper,” Ruby said quickly. She couldn’t help but notice Mary Margaret’s eyebrows rise in surprise before she focused back on Mrs. Gold.

“Call me Belle. It’s so lovely to meet you!” Belle beamed. “I’m married to Mr. Gold who owns the general store.” She scanned the crowd to find him, and pointed to an impeccably dressed man talking to David. “Over there.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Ruby said warmly as she tried to remember where she had seen this woman before.

“Belle is also the step-mother of Neal,” Mary Margaret said, as if to make it clear that Ruby shared a commonality with this woman.

“He’s probably with August and Emma,” Belle explained. “Those three are inseparable.”

“When they’re not at each other’s throats,” Mary Margaret added with a chuckle.

Ruby laughed with the other woman, grateful for the ease with which they fell into conversation. As she noticed the children playing a game of tag across the yard, she saw a familiar-looking boy with August and Emma. He was a bit taller, and Ruby realized it was the same boy she saw the day she was here to marry Mr. Hopper.

She kept the realization to herself as she focused on the conversation that bubbled around her, and she felt her shoulders relax in the company of Belle and Mary Margaret as she helped them with the last of the preparations before the food was ready to be served.

 

* * *

 

Archie watched as Ruby quickly fell in with Mary Margaret and Belle, and he smiled to see how they took her under their wings. Ruby forgot about him almost instantly, and so he slipped away, only to be cornered Leroy, who always gave him an earful about some complaint or another. He smiled and nodded like usual, with a few glances towards the house to keep an eye on Ruby, who seemed to fit in well with the other women.

It looked like this outing was doing her some good after all.

The afternoon passed quickly, filled with the usual food and drink and merriment in which everyone indulged, soaking up the fun that would sustain them through the long months ahead. Still, Archie heard the murmurings as everyone sized up the stranger who had found herself in unusual circumstances—and they’d heard she was pretty, but _my,_ wasn’t she beautiful? And how did she end up with plain old Archibald Hopper?

It was harmless chatter—mostly—and he shrugged it off as he joined his friend.

While he was enjoying a pint of cider with David Nolan, he saw Cora Mills sweep in with her daughter close behind. Her presence was impossible to miss, especially with her elaborate dress and her queenly attitude that was anything but benevolent. He couldn’t help but overhear her remarks to her daughter—it was hard to miss her commanding voice with which she took no pains to hide her opinions.

“Stand up straight, Regina, dear. Don’t fidget. You don’t want to rumple your dress. I don’t order the finest things from Boston and Paris for you to be the second-prettiest girl at the party.”

“Yes, mother,” said a quiet voice, and Archie’s heart went out to the young woman who was so unfortunate as to be tied to such a domineering mother.

He could almost hear Cora’s silent judgments as her gaze swept over the gathering, sizing up everyone’s worth. It was a wonder that the wealthy widow stayed in their “backwater town” at all, but Archie knew she was determined to continue where her husband left off, building up her assets in a growing frontier town.

He was about to walk away when he heard something that made him freeze in his tracks.

“Look, Regina, that must be the new Hopper bride,” Cora remarked with a sneer. “I didn’t believe it at first, but no wonder that bachelor was so eager to snatch up a young widow. Still, even if she is pretty, it’s such a tasteless agreement on both their parts—her husband barely cold in his grave—just for a warm bed.”

The ice in the pit of his stomach instantly steamed to a boil as Archie turned to the woman with fire in his eyes.

“I’ll thank you not to pass such judgments about my _wife_!” Archie spat. “Our _marriage_ is nobody’s concern but our own—completely proper—and I will _not_ stand for what you are implying.” He could see her shock as her eyes widened, but his anger simmered into a focused energy as he continued. “My wife is strong and intelligent and worth twenty of you, so I’d thank you to remember _that_ before you go spreading your poison, Mrs. Mills.”

With that, he drained his mug and traipsed off towards the house to put as much distance between himself and the woman who was left gawking at the usually mild-mannered farmer before he did anything he’d regret.

 

* * *

 

Ruby came back outside after washing some dishes and felt a change sweep over the gathering. “What is it?” she asked Mary Margaret and Belle who were staring at an overly-dressed older woman and a younger girl who looked to be her daughter.

“Oh, nothing!” they both said at once as they spun around. Ruby smirked at them, but there was enough to keep them all busy and so she didn’t press it further.

Just as the women were about to join the rest of the merriment, a trio of troublemakers ran up to them in a huff.

“I wanted to be—”

“He’s not being fair—”

“August said—”

Mary Margaret raised her hands and cried, “Woah! One at a time, if you please.” She bent down to hear Emma’s story first. “Now, what’s the matter?”

Emma wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. Ruby noticed her pink dress already streaked with dirt, and she had to hide her smile behind her hand. “We’re all playing pirates and cowboys but August says I can’t be a pirate and I have to be a princess instead.”

“Oh, is that right?” Mary Margaret cooed as she licked her thumb and wiped some dirt from her daughter’s cheek.

“She’s a girl!” August cried. “She can’t be a pirate.” He crossed his arms in a huff.

Neal rolled his eyes. “I told them it didn’t matter, but they won’t listen to me.”

The three women exchanged knowing looks and tried to bite back smiles.

“Come on, Miss Ruby, can’t you tell Emma that she has to be a princess? We’re going to rescue her!”

Ruby raised her eyebrows as all eyes turned to her. “I, uh….” She scanned the crowd for Mr. Hopper, praying that he would come and sort this mess out since Mary Margaret and Belle were hesitant to chastise someone else’s child.

Or they were waiting to see how she would react.

Ruby crouched down to meet August at eye level. “Would you like it if Emma told you you couldn’t be a pirate?” she asked.

He thought about it for a moment. “No,” he finally admitted.

“Well, do you think it’s fair to tell Emma what she has to be?”

“But she’s—”

“Do you think it’s fair?”

“No, Ma’am.” He kept his gaze on his shoe as he kicked at the ground, and Ruby heard a little sniffle escape from Emma.

“Well, then, why can’t Emma be a pirate with you? Or a cowboy? She’s just as much a pirate as you boys are.”

Ruby could see that the redhead was not happy at the logic that she’d outlined, but he nodded begrudgingly.

“I think it will be a whole lot more fun to have another pirate in your gang, anyway,” Ruby added softly, appealing to his own self-interests.

“Okay,” August finally said.

“C’mon, Emma, you can be part of our pirate gang,” Neal said as he extended his hand to the little girl who grinned back at him. They quickly rushed off on their adventures, with Emma’s blonde braids bobbing behind her.

“Wait for me!” August called off as he followed after them.

Ruby stood up and chuckled. She met the approving gazes of the mothers beside her and felt her cheeks flush.

“Very nicely handled,” Mary Margaret beamed.

“Oh, you’ll be an excellent mother!” Belle exclaimed.

Ruby’s expression dropped. “Did you tell her?” she all but hissed at Mary Margaret as fear gripped her.

“No!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

Belle looked from Ruby to Mary Margaret and back to Ruby. “Oh my stars, you’re _pregnant?!”_

“Sh-h-h-h!” Ruby hissed again. At this rate, the whole town would know before Mr. Hopper.

“She hasn’t told Archie yet,” Mary Margaret whispered to Belle.

Ruby rubbed her temple. “I haven’t found the right time,” she admitted.

“Oh, I only meant eventually, but congratulations!” Belle cried softly, and Ruby couldn’t help but smile as her hands flew to her belly.

She dropped her hands, now scanning the crowd for fear that Archibald was close by. She spotted him at a distance, and her heart swelled to see he was running around with the children, his own grin almost as big as theirs as he chased them around and they squealed in delight.

Mary Margaret and Belle followed her gaze. “He’s a good man,” Mary Margaret said softly.

Ruby found herself nodding in agreement.

 

* * *

 

As attention dwindled away from the food in favour of other amusements, Ruby found herself enjoying some time alone as she observed the townsfolk. There was Belle and her husband Mr. Gold and Neal, and she knew the Nolans. Cora Mills was impossible to miss, with her latest fashions that looked ridiculous so far from Boston. Ruby felt her heart go out to her daughter, who couldn’t have been any older than herself and who looked miserable under her mother’s shadow. Mary Margaret whispered something about a doomed love affair with their stable boy, and Ruby couldn’t imagine what she would have done if her grandmother had forbade her to marry Peter. No one should have to suffer the loss of true love, or be denied it so cruelly.

Ruby’s eye settled on young Sean and Ashley, who were obviously smitten with each other. He was the son of one of the more settled farming families, and she was “just” a maid to the Mills’ household, but what did such distinctions matter out here? Just looking at them, with Ashley’s cheeks flushed as she smiled at something Sean said, Ruby could feel butterflies in her own stomach as she remembered when Peter wooed her.

Sean took Ashley’s hand and led her to the open area for dancing as the band began to strum their first notes. Ruby could feel the sparks pass between them—or maybe she just recalled how it felt when Peter held her hand for the first time, how her heart raced to be pressed up close as he took her in his arms and whirled her across the dance floor. Or the way he took her breath away when he lead her to a hidden corner and pressed his lips against hers for the first time.

Love crashed over you like a storm—passed through you like lightning before you even knew what happened, all-consuming. She could see it in the way that Sean and Ashley looked at each other, and she sent a little prayer to the heavens that everything would align for them.

Before she could let her bittersweet memories sharpen the ache in her heart, Ruby shook her head at herself. Instead, she focused on the strum of the banjo and the light-as-air notes of the fiddle that played while people paired off, moving to the rhythm that swirled around them. She couldn’t resist tapping her toes, and before she knew it, she was clapping along with the others who were not brave enough to try their feet on the sod dance floor.

She laughed—genuinely laughed—to see Emma and Neal and August in their awkward trio dancing together. They looked so cute, all holding hands and jumping around to the beat as best they could, though the tempo became faster and faster until their swings and hops could not keep up, but they didn’t seem to mind. August stuck his tongue out in concentration as he stared downwards, his efforts deemed a success when he didn’t trip over his own feet.

Soon, the song ended, and another one began. Ruby saw August’s face fall when Neal and Emma paired off together in their own imitation of the grown ups’ dancing, and so, before she knew what she was doing, she found herself approaching the boy. “May I have this dance, kind sir?” she asked, her hand outstretched. August pursed his lips in consideration before he nodded seriously. Ruby kept her own expression serious, despite her amusement, as she took August’s hands in hers. She placed one of his hands on her waist while she placed her own hand on his shoulder, and they kept their other hands together as they swayed and swirled with the other dancers.

Keeping him in the middle, she swung around him in wide arcs to keep themselves perfectly matched with his shorter legs. The energy of the music seeped into her bones, and she smiled as August found his footing and became more assured. They swept across the dance floor with the other dancers, adding some hops and skips as the intricate notes of the fiddle soared around them.

As they danced, Ruby glanced up to see the other dancers, and her gaze landed on the band. Her eyes widened as she noticed none other than Mr. Hopper himself playing the violin, his arm fluttering over the instrument as he expertly strung the notes together. How had she not known this about the man with whom she’d been living for over a month?

“I didn’t know your father played!” Ruby almost shouted at August to be heard over the hollers of the dancers and the claps of the crowd gathered around the perimeter.

“Yes!” August yelled back, and he grinned. “He’s the best in Storybrooke!”

Ruby had to chuckle at the boy’s pride in his father, but she had a feeling that his boasting was not misplaced. She couldn’t deny how her heart lifted along with the music—and with the discovery of Archibald’s “new” talent.

He was better than any she’d heard in Boston.

As the music came to a close, August beamed at Ruby as they stepped apart, and Ruby gave a curtsy, to which he replied with his own bow. He looked such the little gentlemen, despite his crooked vest and his rumpled hair. “Thank you, Master Hopper,” Ruby said with a smile.

August nodded, pleased with himself, before he noticed Neal and Emma leaving the “dance floor” and he scurried away.

Ruby caught herself looking at the band as she made her way towards the house, and she met Archibald’s gaze. Her heart strummed in her chest—probably from the exertion of dancing, which she hadn’t done in so long—and she thought she saw him mouth the words “thank you” as he smiled at her.

 

* * *

 

The sun dipped behind the horizon and the light was fading fast when the Hopper family finally left the Nolans’ in their wagon. After so much excitement, the three of them huddled together in silence painted a sharp contrast to the merriment of the day.

Truth be told, Archie was still reeling from a certain discovery he’d made.

He and Ruby and August made a pleasant picture of a family, he thought, though he and Ruby kept their distance. Still, he kept an eye on her to make sure he didn’t miss a subtle plea for help—to make sure she wasn’t eager to leave. His fears proved unfounded, and maybe he was a little disappointed that she never approached him, although their eyes met once or twice over the throng of people.

No, he was glad that she got along so well with Mary Margaret and Belle. It was too bad that winter would surround them soon, because otherwise he would try to get the women together—but there was still time for another visit or two before the frost turned into a blanket of snow, surely.

His heart lifted as he saw Ruby smile with her new friends. Then, he saw a distinct change in all of their expressions—as if Belle had discovered a secret.

When Ruby’s hands fluttered to her stomach, it clicked.

She was expecting.

Of course, he should have known sooner, but he assumed all of the signs—her fatigue, her irregular appetite, the way she looked at Mary Margaret and baby Leo, along with unpredictable emotions—were only symptoms of her grief. Even when he saw her vomit during the hog-butchering, he assumed she was overcome with the odour of the meat, or at worst, coming down with an illness.

His careful attentions assured him that she was not ill, to his great relief. But how could he, of all people, have missed something so obvious! After living in the same house for weeks, a man with his experience should pick up on a few things.

As he drove Cleo home, with August snoring lightly as he slept under Ruby’s arm, Archie considered saying something. She stared straight ahead, and Archie couldn’t help but feel like the magical spell of the party—the pretense that almost started to feel real, the pride with which he would assure someone that yes, that was his wife—was fading as they returned to the homestead.

He looked down at his hands clenched around the reins, and he noticed the gold band on his fourth finger. His heart swelled with the knowledge that, for awhile, at least, he would be a surrogate father to a new little one. Still, there was a sadness mixed with the happy realization, as if the two emotions went hand in hand.

As he brought Cleo to a stop in front of the house, and as Ruby nudged the boy awake, Archie decided he would let her tell him her secret in her own time. If she wanted it to be hers for a little while longer, he wouldn’t take that from her. Perhaps it was a comfort, to have something to keep as only hers and her husband’s while she could.

He carried his son, who returned back to sleep in his arms, from the wagon to his bed in the lean-to. He could see his own breath fogging in the cool evening, and he knew that autumn was starting to fade into winter. He wouldn’t be able to keep August in the lean-to for much longer.

Archie threw another blanket over the boy, nestled in his bed, and kissed his forehead before he left to get Cleo settled in the barn. Pongo pranced along at his heels, and Archie was grateful for the extra company, aside from the barn animals.

“Things are gonna be more different around here than I thought,” Archie chuckled as he tried to come to terms with the change that was to come upon them. What would a new baby need, anyhow? Perhaps David and Mary Margaret would have some advice, or maybe Belle would know on his next trip into town. There was a lot to be done.

Archie fed and watered the horse as he wondered how August would take the news. He couldn’t help but grin at the idea of a little brother or sister for his boy—something he’d never dreamed would happen. He was worried that August was too used to only having his pa around, but he seemed to enjoy the company of Neal and Emma. Another little one wouldn’t be too different.

Darkness had settled as Archie made his way from the barn to the house under the glow of his lantern. He decided to check in on Ruby before he headed to bed, and he slowly entered the house.

As he closed the door, Ruby stood up from the hearth. The fire bathed the room in a warm glow, and Archie’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight of Ruby under the light that flickered from the fireplace. He tipped his hat to her as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

It took all his willpower not to let her know he knew her good news. “I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were all right here before I retired.”

“Umhmm,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

He stood awkwardly by the door, not wanting to leave, but unsure of what to say. “I hope—I hope you had a good time today,” he tried before cringing at himself.

“Oh, yes—it was a lovely day,” she said with a soft smile.

Silence hung thick in the air and neither made a move, nor spoke a word. Archie was highly aware of the space that separated them both standing at either side of the room—he by the door, she by the hearth.

He thought he saw her open her mouth to say something before closing it, and he took a step forward. She brought her hands together, wringing them over one another, and he couldn’t tell if she wanted him to stay or leave.

Then, she spoke. “I wanted to tell you how grateful I am for all you’ve done,” she said firmly. Archie’s hearted lifted before it sank. She spoke as if he was still a stranger, or at best, an acquaintance—someone to which she owed a debt.

“It’s my p-pleasure,” he said, cursing himself for his stutter. When she said no more, he reached for the door handle.

“Wait!” she exclaimed with a step forward. “I just—I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?” His eyes softened as he took his hat off and held it in his hands, trying to look as open and inviting as he could. He could barely make out her expression in the shadows as she stood with her back to the fire.

Her words tumbled out, tripping over one another as she refused to meet his eyes. “I should have told you sooner, but this has all taken so much getting used to, and then I was worried about what you might think, and I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you, but I know I need to tell you because it will be apparent soon enough…”

Her hands fluttered over one another, and he took a couple of steps closer, unable to hide his grin as he stood in front of her. If there was any doubt before, there certainly was none now.

He placed his hat on the table to free his hands and, daring to take hers in his, he noticed how his thumb brushed across her wedding rings. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

She finally stilled and met his gaze, looking up at him from under her dark lashes. He took a step sideways, causing her to turn with him as the firelight danced across her features and made her eyes glimmer.

“I’m pregnant,” she said so softly that Archie almost didn’t catch her words. Her eyes flitted back and forth, studying his, as if she was worried about his reaction.

“Ruby, that’s wonderful!” he beamed back at her as he squeezed her hands. “I’m so happy for you!”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly and her expression softened into a small smile of relief. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “I think it’s wonderful that you’ll have a little one to remember your husband by.”

A smile bloomed across her features and Archie felt a lump rise in his throat.

“I-I’m sure it won’t make a difference to the price of my ticket back home,” she said quickly, pulling her hands from his. “And it won’t affect my chores, or my teaching August, and I’m sure a new baby won’t be too much of hassle.”

Archie turned away to face the door as she returned to the hearth to stoke the fire. He felt his heart sink lower than he thought possible, only realizing now that he’d entertained hopes that she’d postpone her trip, now that she’d have a newborn.

“When are you due?” he asked with a steady voice, turning back to her.

“March,” she replied, and Archie calculated how far along she was already.

“That’s wonderful,” he said again. All of a sudden he was unsure of what to do with his hands until he noticed his hat on the table. He grabbed it and ran his fingers over its brim before he remembered himself. He wasn’t usually so nervous around her—not anymore. “Well, I’d best leave you to get your rest.”

Ruby nodded. “Good night, Mr. Hopper—Archibald.”

Archie met her gaze. “Good night, Ruby,” he said softly. He placed his hat back on his head at tipped it towards her before he disappeared behind the door.

With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned against the solid wood. The ache that grew in his chest made him realize he’d forgotten himself—had let himself pretend something that wasn’t to be.

Theirs wasn’t a real marriage, of course. It was just a convenient arrangement—a business contract—which would be fulfilled come spring.

He’d have to be more careful. 


	11. Shopping Lists...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie begin to figure out next steps and Archie's next trip to town proves a little more complicated than usual.

The crisp October days faded to the dampness of November, with the threat of snow heavy in the air. Despite the shorter days and the bare branches to which only the most stubborn of leaves still clung, Ruby felt lighter and more relaxed than she remembered feeling in a long time. Perhaps the weight of her secret had pressed down on her more than she’d realized, and she had mistaken it for grief. With the knowledge now shared with Mr. Hopper, she could almost let herself look forward to the little one’s arrival—although it still felt so far away.

They told August at breakfast one morning, and Ruby held her breath as she waited for his reaction, ignoring the flutterings in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she expected him to complain or to be excited, but she certainly was not ready for his nonchalant, “That’s nice,” before he returned to his hot cereal.

Ruby and Archibald both exchange puzzled looks with raised eyebrows, and Archibald shrugged. Ruby glanced back to August and she wondered if she saw the wheels turning in the boy’s head as he processed the new information, frowning into his bowl.

As she braced for a barrage of questions, August finished his breakfast in silence and got up to do his chores. She stared blankly after him as he headed out the door.

“I’m sure that’s not the last we’ll hear of it,” Archibald chuckled as he stood up, draining his coffee mug before following his son out the door. Ruby shook her head with a smile.

She did notice that the boy was a little more helpful than usual, and Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if that was thanks to strict instructions from his father. She couldn’t do so much as carry water in from the pump without Archibald asking if she needed help, or insisting that he do it. “I’m fine!” she insisted. “I’m not going to break.” If anything, she needed to be useful while she still could, since there would come a time when she was sure she wouldn’t be much good to anybody.

Soon, Archibald relented, though Ruby still felt his watchful eye upon her. It was sweet, that he wanted to take care of her, and she couldn’t help but wonder how much more frustratingly protective Peter would have been himself. The thought—the comparison—didn’t hold the same ache as it used to, and Ruby actually let a small smile curve her lips—though not without a few tears welling up, also.

There was much to be done while the weather held out. Ruby scrubbed down her room and rearranged some things to make space for August’s bed, which was returned to its rightful place. It would take some getting used to, but she was more than happy to agree to Mr. Hopper’s request. The boy should not be sleeping out in the lean-to with the weather growing cold.

In the midst of her preparations, she felt the familiar flutter in her middle while she was hunched over on her hands and knees, wash bucket beside her. She thought nothing of it, pausing only to brush a stray bit of hair from out of her eyes with her arm. It wasn’t until after Archibald had brought August’s bed inside and she was tucking in the clean sheets around the mattress that movement stirred once more within her, and she froze with recognition. She stood up from her task and pressed her hands gently to her stomach, her features lifting as delight bubbled in her chest.

“Hello, little one,” she breathed, awe washing over her. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she revelled in the sign—more than the tightness of her stomach as it grew—that was proof of the life forming within her.

She kept her secret to herself as the day continued with August moving the last of his things back into his room. Ruby thought she even caught a smugness in his expression as he claimed back what was his—and rightfully so, she chuckled to herself.

That evening, the three of them took advantage of the early darkness and enjoyed the coziness of the hearth. Ruby sat with her mending as she worked on patching up a pair of August’s trousers. Archibald sat at the table as he cleaned the leather of the horse’s tack. August sat in front of the fire, whittling away at a piece of wood. Ruby couldn’t tell what he was making, but she had to smile as his tongue remained fixed between his lips in concentration.

She focused on her work, pulling the needle and thread through the fabric, when a voice sounded from the fireside.

“So, does this mean the new baby is my brother or sister?”

Ruby froze and glanced up to meet Archibald’s gaze. He licked his lips before looking at August over the table. “In a way,” he said at last.

There was a pause before another question. “Are you the baby’s pa as well, since you and Miss Ruby are married?”

Ruby’s eyes widened and she waited for Mr. Hopper’s answer, unable to form her own.

“I will help take care of him like a pa, but the baby’s biological father is Miss Ruby’s first husband.”

“Like you’re my pa.”

“In a way, but… not entirely the same.”

Ruby squirmed in her seat, unsure of how much more to say about their complicated situation. Surely Mr. Hopper had explained certain things to him? Then again, the boy was still very young.

“Are you still going back east in the spring, Miss Ruby? And what will happen with the baby?”

Goodness, this was a complicated. She had been prepared for some questions before, but the boy’s timing caught her off guard. Besides, hadn’t Archibald talked with him?

“Yes, August, I’m still going back east,” she said slowly. “I’ll take the baby with me.” She couldn’t deny the words felt heavy on her lips, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at August or Mr. Hopper. “But that’s not for a long while.”

“I’d like a little brother,” August declared.

“What if it’s a girl?” Archibald asked, and Ruby thought she heard a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I’ve already got Emma,” August replied, and Archibald and Ruby both chuckled.

“Don’t worry, August, I have a feeling it will be a boy,” Ruby assured him. Maybe she was just hoping for a miniature version of Peter, but she couldn’t help but picture a little boy every time she thought of the baby.

She caught Archibald’s raised brows before he turned to his son and stood up. “Well, I think that is enough questions for tonight—and I think it’s time for a certain woodworker to get ready for bed.”

August groaned but obeyed his father as he put his handiwork away and washed up at the basin. Soon he was tucked in his bed in the other room, and Ruby and Archibald continued their work by firelight in the cozy room.

“Have you been feeling alright? Any nausea or dizziness?” Archibald asked, and Ruby looked up with a start.

“No, I’m fine,” she replied as he continued to polish the leather pieces.

“Do you want me to bring any water in before I go to bed?”

“No, but thank you.” She smiled down at her mending, warmed by his thoughtfulness.

“I’ll be going into town tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Is there anything you’d like me to get?”

“I left a list on the table by the stove.”

“Yes, of course.”

Ruby smiled at the exchange as they both focused on their work. She appreciated the friendliness and felt compelled to return it. “Do you—are there many things left to do outside?” she tried, knowing that the last harvest had been prepared and stored away in the overflowing larder and attic and cold box.

“Not much. I’ll stock up tomorrow when I’m at Gold’s. A snowstorm could hit at any point, so I like to be prepared with supplies at this time of year.”

“That sounds wise,” Ruby said with a nod. “Are you leaving early?”

“I might leave a bit early, yeah. You’ll be good with August?”

“Of course. I can put some coffee on before you go, and heat up some breakfast.”

“No, no—that won’t be necessary. I’ll grab something in the morning, but I don’t want to wake you.”

Ruby wasn’t sure whether to argue or to accept his kindness. “Alright,” she said at last. A wave of fatigue hit her as a yawn escaped. She blinked at the fire before declaring herself done for the night. “I think it’s my bedtime,” she said as she stood up.

Archibald stood up in his spot, his chair scraping along the floor as it was pushed back. “I’ll be out soon,” he promised.

“Please, take your time,” she said with a smile. She splashed some water on her face from the basin before reaching for the door handle to the bedroom, grateful for the soft mattress that awaited her. As she looked back at the man standing near the table, she noticed how the flickering light from the hearth made his red hair look almost golden. “Good night, Archibald.”

“Good night, Ruby.”

 

* * *

 

The world was still dark when Archie left the homestead the next morning. He grabbed a quick breakfast of bread and cheese, with some extra for his lunch in town, all the while taking care to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake up those who slumbered on the other side of the bedroom door. He smiled at the image of the boy curled up under the quilts that came to mind unbidden—followed by the image of Ruby sleeping in his bed, her dark hair loose across the pillow.

Archie shook his head at himself as he closed the door to the cabin. The moon was a sliver, but shone just enough guide his path to the barn, Pongo at his heels until he shooed the dog back to the house, and soon he was on his way along the bumpy trail to Storybrooke.

The faint light of dawn broke on the horizon as he slowed to a stop in front of the general store. The town was quiet, most of its inhabitants still asleep, unlike the farmers who were hard at work along the outskirts of the town’s borders.

After making sure the wagon and horse were secure, he opened the glass-paned door to the shop, causing the bell overhead to chime and the petite brunette to look up from her books behind the counter.

“Mr. Hopper!” she beamed at him. “You’re here awfully early.”

Archie smiled back. “Please, it’s Archie,” he assured her, shaking his limbs out to warm up beside the stove.

As they exchanged their pleasantries, Archie fished out the lists from his coat pocket—one written in his own hand, the other in Ruby’s dainty cursive.

“I’ll be needing a lot from you today,” he admitted as he smoothed the papers down on the counter and took off his hat.

“Stocking up for the winter?” Belle asked, hunched over the counter to read the list in the flicker of candlelight that aided the early morning sunlight creeping in through the windows, still dim at this early hour.

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “And, w-well—a bit more than that,” he admitted as a flush crept over his cheeks.

Belle looked up from the papers. “Oh?” she said with a raise of her brow.

Archie swallowed. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden?

“I hoped you might be able to suggest what might be needed in way of preparations for—for a new baby,” he finished with a nod.

“Oh, Archie, of course!” Belle lit up and grabbed his wrists in excitement. “Congratulations!”

Archie grinned back before they remembered themselves and she dropped her grip. “You knew, then?” he asked as he fiddled with his hat.

“Oh, well, Ruby—Mrs. Hopper might have let it slip when I met her at the Harvest Party,” Belle admitted with a twinkle in her eye. “But I’m sure it was just kept between the three of us women.”

“Of course,” Archie replied. “You must know,”—he took a breath and kept his eyes on Belle—“you know that the child belongs to her late husband?”

Belle smiled softly. “Yes, I had heard.”

Archie let out the breath he was holding. “Good.” He knew it was important to Ruby that the truth be known, and he knew Belle would understand the delicate situation. He knew it should make him feel better that Ruby trusted her, but he couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy that Belle had known before him—that Ruby had divulged her secret to the wife of the owner of the general store first.

Archie stuffed the silly notion away as he returned his focus to the task at hand. “I’ll need extra flour and sugar,” he began. “And polish, and I’ll need to order a new pair of boots for August.” Belle nodded as she followed the list with her index finger along with his requests. Archie noticed that Ruby’s list was rather short, but he knew she’d need more over the winter.

“I’ll need some fabric,” Archie explained, feeling a little out of his element. “Can you—can you suggest what might be best for women’s clothes?”

“Oh, certainly!” Belle said, brightening. She whisked away to a nearby shelf and brought out a couple of bolts. “These muslins are just new, and would make fine dresses for the winter. Plus, there’s the heavier wools.”

Archie ran his fingers over the material. She needn’t have anything too fancy, really, since the only company they’d see over the next few months would be the Nolans at most. Still, the bright reds and greens and blues suited her much more than the browns and beiges, he thought.

“What about these?” Archie asked, meeting Belle’s gaze with a raise of his eyebrows, looking for approval.

“Those would suit Mrs. Hopper just fine, I think,” Belle said with a smile.

Archie relaxed slightly. “I’d like some wool as well—some heavy wool, I suspect, but perhaps some finer yarns as well? For baby clothes?”

Belle nodded as she ducked under the counter and popped up with a pair of scissors. “I’m sure I have just the thing,” she said.

Archie nodded. He scanned his lists, wondering what other instructions he needed to give. He’d never ordered so much in one visit, and yet he felt like he had only begun. “Do you have any winter coats, Mrs. Gold?” Archie asked. “For ladies?”

“Yes, I believe we have some that would fit Ruby—there must be something that would suit her. I’ll bring them out.”

Archie nodded again. “I believe everything else is laid out here,” he said, holding up the piece of paper. “Do you mind if I leave you to it while I visit the blacksmith?”

Belle grinned. “I’ll sort it all out, Archie, don’t worry. It will be all ready when you come back.”

Archie couldn’t help but grin as he returned his hat to his head and tipped the brim towards her in thanks. He could almost hear her thoughts as she fluttered behind the counter, helping the poor old bachelor who knew nothing about babies or women. Never had he been more grateful that Mr. Gold had found himself a wife to help out at the store.

After a visit to the blacksmith’s down the way, and taking care of other business in town, Archie returned to the cozy warmth of the general store. There were a few more customers, Archie noticed with a sigh, and he tensed when he recognized Cora Mills at the counter with Belle.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Archie,” Belle greeted before she returned her attention to the imposing woman in front of her.

Archie tipped his hat to the two of them before settling in near the stove. The wind was picking up with the bite that threatened to bring snow, and Archie felt restless to pack up his wagon—eager to get on his way back to the homestead.

Belle soon left Mrs. Mills perusing some ribbons and pointed at the bundles set aside at the end of the counter.

“Here are the coats we have in stock,” she explained as she spread them out on the counter.

Archie licked his lips as he looked them over. They looked warm and plush, but there was one that really caught his eye.

“What about this?” he asked, pointing to a scarlet wool.

“It’s beautiful,” Belle agreed as she held it up. “The lining is sturdy and warm, and the colour is stunning.”

Archie nodded as his gaze lingered over the garment. She had a few things in red already—he could recall her shawl, as well as the dress that she had already worn threadbare at the knees. He could picture Ruby’s eyes lighting up as she tried this red coat on, and he knew it was the one he wanted for her. “This will do nicely.”

“Alright,” Belle said as she wrapped it up in brown paper and added it to the pile. “I believe this is everything you’ll need,” she said with nod, as if pleased with a job well done.

“I’m sure it is,” Archie said with a smile. “Although, you’ve got the fabric? And the extra wool? Are there any instructions that Ruby might need? Any patterns?”

“It’s all here,” Belle assured him. “Right down to the safety pins and cloths for the diapers,” she said with a knowing smile.

“Th-thank you,” Archie replied, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks as much as he willed himself to remain collected. He couldn’t believe they’d need so much, but he wanted to be prepared in case he couldn’t get to town again. He quickly settled the bill that Belle presented him with.

“I beg your pardon, but did you say _diapers_?” a cold voice feigning warmth called out from the other end of the counter. Archie froze, wishing he could ignore the attention he’d unfortunately drawn to himself.

Archie looked up and met the plastered-on smile of Cora, and he nodded in return. “Mrs. Mills.”

“Oh, your little family is expanding! And so _soon_ ,” Cora said with a sneer. “My, my, you don’t waste any time, Archibald Hopper.”

Archie simply replied with a “umhmm” and made a sharp turn, his arms full, out towards his wagon. It took a few trips back and forth before he’d loaded his parcels, and on his last exit, Cora placed her hand on his arm. “Do give my congratulations to the Mrs.,” she said in a smooth drawl, and Archie knew there was very little politeness in her well wishes.

“Good day,” Archie replied curtly before disappearing outside and emptying his arms. He knew exactly what she was implying and it made his blood boil as he jerked the canvass over his supplies and tied it down. How _dare_ she pretend to know anything about himself, or Ruby. It was none of her business, so just _let_ her think whatever she wanted. It didn’t matter.

Archie stopped short as a thought hit him, freezing him to the spot before he could climb up to his seat. It was none of her business, that much was certain, but once Cora decided to make it her business, the whole town would know soon enough. It might as well be the correct information.

With a huff, Archie pivoted on his heel and all but burst into the general store, sending the bell chiming more violently than usual. “Mrs. Mills,” he said firmly, “I thank you for your congratulations, but only on behalf of my wife, seeing as the child was fathered by her late husband. I’ll thank you to remember the facts as you spread our happy news around Storybrooke.” He couldn’t help a small wave of satisfaction that washed over him to see Cora Mills’ mouth hanging slightly agape. “Ladies,” he said with a tip of his hat to both Cora and Belle, “Good day.”

With a swift turn, he was out the door and on his way back home, unaware that Belle had to turn away to hide her giggle behind her hand as Cora strove to collect herself.


	12. ...and Other Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie slightly resembles Santa Clause a couple of months too early.

Ruby paced by the window and let herself glance out once more only to see a dark landscape beyond the barn. She tried to remember if Archibald had told her what time she should expect him back, but she couldn’t recall for certain—though it would be strange if he had planned to be out past supper, especially with such an early start.

She willed herself to sit back in her rocking chair with her knitting, keeping an eye on the redhead who sat dutifully at the table with his books. Supper was keeping warm on the stove, though Ruby was close to deciding it was better that they just begin. It wasn’t fair to keep August hungry, and then to keep him up too late…. Besides, her own stomach had grumbled more than she cared to admit. No, he’d be here any minute.

She realized she hadn’t moved her needles, and so focused on finishing the row.

The eerie silence that hung in the cabin was broken when Pongo jumped up, his paws clicking on the floor, sending a jolt through Ruby. She jumped up off her chair and set her knitting down before she rushed to the window.

“August, it’s time put your things away and wash up for supper,” she said without taking her eyes off of the wagon that slowed to a stop in front of the house, and she realized she suddenly felt lighter.

She pulled herself away from the window and threw her shawl over her shoulders before she swung the heavy door open. The chill swept into the house, but Ruby didn’t care as she kept it open for Archibald, who hopped down from the wagon. He rushed inside once he noticed Ruby stood in the doorway.

“Is everything alright?” he asked as she shut the door behind him.

“I was going to ask the same,” Ruby chuckled, though her teasing held a hint of concern. “You’re later than usual.”

“Pa!” August exclaimed as he threw himself at his father.

“Hey,” Archibald said with a grin as he ruffled the boy’s hair. Archibald met Ruby’s gaze and his features softened. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “There was a lot to do, and it took longer than I expected.”

His eyes held hers, and Ruby had to look away. “I understand,” she said as she stepped towards the stove, her back towards him.

“I’ve got to unhitch Cleo and get her settled in the barn.” He kissed August’s head before he looked up at Ruby. “August, can you start bringing things in from the wagon?”

“I can help,” Ruby offered.

“Oh, no, that’s fine. August and I can take care of it.” Archibald said with a wave of his hand. Ruby thought she caught a flash of a giddy smile before he headed out the door with his son.

“I’ll get everything on the table,” she called out after them.

Package after package came into the house until Ruby wasn’t sure where they’d put everything. She could see some labels, like flour and sugar, but some bundles hid their secrets behind plain brown paper.

Finally, everything was in—and Ruby managed to help move a few bundles before Archibald noticed and “shooed” her away. With everything inside, Ruby shivered at the chill that had permeated the room with the door open, and she hugged her shawl tightly around her while Archibald threw some logs on the hearth.

Ruby wondered if her eyes were as wide as August’s, and her warning that the packages would have to wait until _after_ dinner was as much for herself as for the excited nine-year-old—and possibly for his father, as well, judging from the twinkle in Mr. Hopper’s eye as they sat down to the set table.

First, Archibald said the grace, his voice warm and steady. It calmed Ruby after the rush of activity, and it took her a moment to remember herself once everyone opened their eyes.

“You must be starving,” Ruby exclaimed, jumping up to serve Archibald’s bowl first.

“Yes—thank you,” Archibald said as he took the bowl from her, and their fingers brushed against each other’s.

“Not as hungry as me!” August said, all but shoving his bowl at Ruby, and she had to laugh. The poor boy had waited so long and had worked hard for his supper.

“Patience, August,” Mr. Hopper warned, and Ruby caught the look he threw his son over his spectacles as Ruby served her own bowl. Even when he must be famished, Ruby noticed, Archibald waited until everyone had his or her food before he started to eat.

“Delicious,” Archibald said after a swallow. “That hits the spot. And I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, but I didn’t want to leave it all outside. I know it’s crowded now, but most of it can go upstairs tomorrow, when there’s daylight.”

Ruby nodded in reply as she took her own mouthful. Before she’d come, he would have had to make the trip into town and then make supper for himself and August. She couldn’t imagine being left alone to take care of herself and a child.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d be stocking up today,” Ruby teased, pushing any serious thoughts aside.

Archibald chuckled. “You’d think I’d bought out all of Gold’s,” he replied. “But I’m pretty sure they’ve got some stock left.”

“I think there’s twice as much as last year, Pa,” August said before taking a heaping spoonful of dinner.

Ruby furrowed her brow at Archibald, but he waved the comment off. “I’m sure it’s not much,” he said, dropping his gaze to his bowl.

Now Ruby was very curious to see what he’d brought. The list she’d given him hadn’t been that long.

“So, I bumped into some people in town,” Archibald said, as if to change the subject.

“Oh?” Ruby raised her eyebrows as her fork hovered over her dish. “The Nolans?”

Archibald shook his head. “No, not the Nolans.” Ruby was disappointed at that, but her curiosity was piqued as he licked his lips in a pause before he continued. She kept her gaze fixed on him and she thought that he looked almost nervous.

“I, uh, well, Mrs. Mills was in the general store when I was collecting our order,” he said. Ruby noticed how he said “our order”. “Do you remember Mrs. Mills from the harvest party?”

Ruby nodded, recalling the overdressed woman whose airs would earn her sniggers in any corner of Boston. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Yes, well, she overheard me confirming things with Belle and, she, uh—well, she heard that you are expecting.”

“Oh.” Ruby had only just become used to the idea of Archibald and August knowing. She hadn’t thought about the rest of the town being privy to her long-held secret so soon—especially when she didn’t know most of them.

“She assumed that the child was mine,” Archibald rushed to explain. “I figured it wasn’t any of her business, and she can think of me what she likes. But then I realized that it would be better that she know the truth, especially if she was to spread the news all over Storybrooke, so I turned around and went back into Gold’s and told her that the child is your husband’s.” He paused and met her gaze. “I, uh—I knew it was important.”

Ruby felt tears well up and she had to blink them back. “Thank you,” she said softly when she remembered herself.

Even in the dim light, she could see Archibald’s clear blue eyes look into hers, and he nodded. Then, he leaned forward, an almost playful smile on his lips. “You should have seen her when I corrected her,” he teased. He sat back and smiled into his dinner, pleased with himself. “That look alone was almost worth it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what it is about that woman, but she always gets me riled up.”

Ruby chuckled. She couldn’t imagine calm and steady Archibald Hopper ever riled up, and she wished she’d been there to see it firsthand. “I’m sure you were no such thing.”

“She deserved it. Cora Mills is a crotchety old lady,” August chimed in.

“August!” Archibald warned halfheartedly, trying not to laugh as Ruby hid her own giggle behind her hand. “Where did you even hear such a word? And she’s not that old—she’s not much older than me.”

“You’re old, too, Pa.”

Archie let out a laugh. “Yes, well, I’m also your pa, and I thought I taught you better manners than that!”

Ruby hid a smile behind her cup. As she snuck a glance at Archibald, she couldn’t help but wonder—and not for the first time—how old he was. It seemed odd not know the age of one’s own husband, but it was far from the most unusual thing about their unconventional relationship.

His build, his strength, his boyish smile all made Ruby think he couldn’t be more than ten years older than her own twenty years. His glasses made him look a little older than that, perhaps, and she couldn’t decide if his hair was thinning slightly, but it puzzled Ruby to think he was close to Mrs. Mills’ age—a woman who must be in her forties at least.

She shook her head at herself. Curious as she was, she was too shy to ask, and she felt like too much time had passed for such questions. Besides, what did it really matter? She’d be gone in the spring whether he was closer to thirty years old or forty.

Supper seemed to be over more quickly than usual, and Ruby suspected they were all eager to discover what goodies Mr. Hopper had brought home—and he seemed excited to show them off. There were the items from Ruby’s list, but at twice or three times the amount she expected. Ruby remembered Archibald’s words about stocking up for the winter, despite how early it still was, and while it was hard to believe they’d need so much, she was grateful for his foresight—and for the certainty of having sugar and molasses all through the winter months, despite their lesser importance to staples like flour. The large cone of white sugar was particularly decadent to the usual brown sugar they used, and Ruby shook her head at Archibald’s indulgence. “For special occasions,” Archibald assured her, though Ruby couldn’t help but notice how he beamed back at her. She wondered how big her eyes were as she beheld the abundance spread out over the kitchen table.

She furrowed her brow as she held up a tin marked “green tea”, glancing at Archibald to explain. “It’s for you—and the baby,” he said sheepishly. “I mean, it’s supposed to be a healthful alternative to coffee during pregnancy.”

Ruby smiled, her heart warmed at his thoughtfulness, and she took care to place it on the shelf over the stove.

August was more interested in the supplies that would be taken to the barn tomorrow, and Ruby’s heart lifted as she watched the boy unwrap the packages and make a neat pile with his father by the door, all ready to be hauled out and organized come daylight.

After all the expected packages had been accounted for, there still stood a large pile in the middle of the table, hidden behind brown paper and string.

“What’s all this, Pa?” August asked, lunging for a package.

“It’s mostly for Miss Ruby,” Archibald explained. “Maybe you can help her if you ask nicely.”

Ruby could feel Mr. Hopper’s gaze on her as she held up a bundle that felt soft in her grip. “Of course,” she said to August’s pleading eyes, and he grinned as he ripped into another bundle.

Ruby carefully tugged at the string and unwrapped the parcel. Neatly folded were large bundles of fabric that took Ruby’s breath away. Even in the glow of the fire, she could make out the cheerful colours and prints of the fabric with dainty patterns that would make beautiful dresses.

“Oh, Mr. Hopper!” she exclaimed, running her hands over the bundles. Her eyes grew even wider as she realized how many more packages there were to open, and her pulse quickened as she grew almost nervous to open the rest.

August had no such qualms as he opened a few more packages, mostly skeins of wool and some more fabric. “It’s just yarn,” he sighed, pushing the half-open parcels away from him.

Archibald chuckled and fished something out of his pocket. “I told you they were mostly for Miss Ruby,” he said, holding up a little paper bag. “But this is especially for you.”

Ruby didn’t notice August’s eyes light up as he took out a couple of sticks of licorice—she was too caught up in handling the soft yarns that August had left strewn across the table. Some were heavy and thick, meant for knitting sweaters and socks and shawls. Some were delicate, soft enough for a baby’s cap or blanket.

Ruby moved on to the rest of the parcels, slowly opening each one, tucking the string and brown paper aside in a tidy pile as she inspected the contents of each package with awe. There were tiny squares of cloth with pins and an envelope with patterns for baby clothes. There were more bundles of beautiful fabric, and a lump rose in Ruby’s throat as she ran her hands over each piece.

How could she accept such kindness? It was too much, much too much to accept it all from a man she still barely knew and whom she’d be leaving in the spring. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of how much she owed him already, and she felt the sting to her pride to know that she could never repay him.

Her hands flew to her skirt, her fingers instantly finding the frayed edges where she’d worn through the fabric at her knees. She slid her hands up to where her dress was pulled taunt across her middle, and she knew she’d not be able to fit in her clothes for much longer. Perhaps he was ashamed of her shabby clothes and wanted to make sure his wife was properly dressed.

Ruby knew enough about Mr. Hopper to know he would not have any kind of malicious intent. She threw a glance at the sewing machine by the hearth, glinting in the firelight, and she gripped the edge of table as she imagined all the beautiful things she could make over the next few months, huddled safely inside from the snow that would soon envelope them inside the cabin.

“I h-hope it’s all to your liking,” Archibald said as he came up beside Ruby. “I’m not much experienced with muslins and yarn, but Belle assured me this would suit you.”

Ruby bit her lip before she dared to look at the man beside her. His gaze was warm, if a bit nervous as his eyes searched hers. “It’s perfect,” she assured him, dropping her gaze back to the table.

“I’m afraid it’s not all for you—in that, I hope you’ll be able to help fit out myself and August as the needs arise over the next few months. Some mending, and some new garments, especially for August. He’s outgrowing his clothes faster than I can replace them, and tearing holes in them even more quickly,” Archibald finished with a chuckle.

“Of course,” Ruby said as she kept her gaze fixed on the pile of textiles and paper on the table in front of her.

Archibald reached for the last package and held it up for Ruby. “I noticed you’ll need something for winter,” he said.

Ruby nodded as she took it from him, her heart racing as she slowly pulled back the string and paper. She let out a gasp at the glimpse of scarlet woolen fabric underneath. She held up the garment to reveal a beautiful red coat and her breath caught in her throat.

“Mr. Hopper, it’s too much,” she said at last.

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” he assured her. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Ruby was amazed that such a quiet man would dare to purchase such a bold colour, but it lifted her heart so unexpectedly—to posses such a beautiful coat in her favourite shade, as well as the thought that Archibald somehow knew she would like it best.

“I thought you’d need some new dresses, since, well…” Archibald trailed off and gestured to her middle. Ruby gave him a soft smile, pulling her eyes from the coat in her arms and looking up to meet his gaze.

“You mean because I’ll soon be as big as a whale,” she said with a chuckle to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. “I hope all of this will at least make me two dresses.”

Archibald grinned. “Like I said, it’s not all selfless—August and I will need a few things, too, if you’d be so kind. But I wanted to stock up on the off chance that we’re stuck here for any length of time. And seeing as this is your first winter out here, I wanted to make sure you had a proper coat.”

Ruby carefully laid the coat on the table before placing a hand on Archibald’s arm. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything.” A warmth flooded her belly and her chest and she couldn’t help but think how nice it was to be taken care of—to be so certain that she and Peter’s child would be safe and sound over the harsh winter. She’d taken a risk, tethering herself to a strange man for months on end, but she was becoming more and more sure that she’d made the right decision.

Then, before she could look into Archibald’s blue eyes for too long, unsure if she was reading too much into his gaze, she swiftly turned back to the pile on the table. “And I will happily make you and August all the shirts and scarves and socks that you could ever need!”

“Wonderful,” Archibald replied.

Suddenly, the clock on the mantel struck the hour, and Ruby and Archibald both jumped. “It’s that time already!” Archibald exclaimed, throwing a glance to August who was quietly chewing on his licorice at the other side of the table. The boy groaned when he fell under his father’s gaze, but he knew better than to argue as he tucked the rest of his candy away and shuffled over to the wash basin.

Ruby chuckled. “I think I’m going to retire early,” she said. In truth, the gifts were a lot to process—both the generosity of Mr. Hopper and the future that they represented. She was excited to prepare for the baby, but she was also overwhelmed at the realization that such changes would be coming quickly, including the obvious changes to her own body that were already well under way.

“Please, stay as long as you like,” she told Mr. Hopper as she made her way to the bedroom door behind which the redheaded boy had already disappeared. Guilt pricked at her at the thought of the father returning to the lean-to outside with the snow beginning to fall. “And thank you so much for your kindness, Mr. Hopper.”

“It’s my p-pleasure,” Archibald said with a nod. “Have a good night.”

“Good night.”

As Ruby lay awake, her head on her pillow, confusion wracked her heart. Already it was November with winter approaching fast. Already it was time for heavy coats and scarves. Already it was time for maternity dresses and baby clothes and extra supplies in case an early blizzard hit.

Somehow Ruby had been blessed with more provisions than Peter could have ever dreamed of giving her, and Ruby wished more than ever that she could have shared these moments with him.


	13. Ghost Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An innocent bedtime story drudges up unexpected emotions for Ruby.

The next day was busy as the three of them sorted out the provisions and worked to get everything put away. Ruby was pleased with—proud of, even—the full cupboards in her kitchen, bursting with goodies. She had to remind herself that the supplies needed to last the winter, though she couldn’t imagine ever going through so much food.

Ruby had also managed to fish out one of her grandmother’s recipe books from her trunk in the barn—thankfully only separated from the house by a light dusting of snow—and she was growing more eager to try her hand at some of the different dishes. Not all of her attempts were successful, to be sure, but none of them were inedible by Pongo’s standards, either. In fact, very few of her meals went untouched by August—though it did not go unnoticed that he tucked away some of his vegetables in his napkin to be discarded later—so Ruby secretly prided herself on her small victories as she began to master the stove. Besides, though Mr. Hopper was too nice to say anything, she never got over the guilt that would hit her when she ruined the ingredients that they’d worked so hard for. Thankfully such an occurrence was more and more rare.

Though the colder weather meant that there were fewer chores to do outside, Ruby still felt like her days flew by. Her mornings began with the hearth and the stove, coaxing them to life as quickly as possible to take the chill out of the cabin that grew sharper with each passing day. With her shawl wrapped tightly around her, she would visit the chicken coop, snatching up their offerings as quickly as she could to avoid angry beaks and the nip of the cold air on her fingers. It was becoming a blessing to spend her days by the warm stove, and she shook her head at herself for being thankful that she was responsible for mealtimes.

Each day had its own chore, like Granny would do: “Wash on Monday, Iron on Tuesday, Mend on Wednesday, Churn on Thursday, Clean on Friday, Bake on Saturday, Rest on Sunday.” It marked the passage of time easily enough until Ruby lost track of how many days she’d spent churning butter or ironing shirts. The familiar routine was a comfort so far from home, though now Ruby was responsible for everything her grandmother used to do. Perhaps her baking would never be as light and fluffy as Granny’s, but Ruby couldn’t deny the sense of satisfaction she felt in running her own home.

The harvest was over, but Archibald was away from the cabin more than ever. The relief that Ruby used to feel at his absences lessened, and while she enjoyed her quiet days with August—which had now become routine—she was glad to see Mr. Hopper safely home come nightfall. No longer was he a stranger, but instead his presence felt familiar. Perhaps his steady gaze unnerved her at times, but it was nice to know he was there.

Still, Ruby enjoyed having her own space during the day, and even cherished the times when August was outside with his father or doing his chores, but there was something to be said for the company when they all settled down for supper together or later huddled around the crackling fire with the hum of the sewing machine and the whittling of August’s carving.

What puzzled Ruby most were Archibald’s visits into town, which became more and more frequent. Surely they had everything they needed to last a good while, and yet two or three times a week he would be off on the wagon with Cleo. Sometimes he brought very little back, and sometimes he forewent the wagon altogether and rode on saddleback. Sometimes he would leave with a sack of corn, or one of the pigs, and guilt pricked at Ruby at the thought that he needed to sell them off.

 _Oh, you silly man! I told you it was too much_ , Ruby thought to herself as she turned back to her dough after watching him leave, the view of him on the wagon perfectly framed by the window. Maybe he could return some of the fabric or wool. Or maybe she could sell some things, like embroidered handkerchiefs or knitted socks. She caught herself when she realized she was kneading the dough far too vigorously, and she prayed that she hadn’t ruined the loaf.

Later that day, Ruby was hunched over the stove while August was hunched over a book at the table, having decided that he preferred that to helping Ruby with the preparations for dinner. Ruby smiled as she heard him let out a heavy sigh behind her, satisfied that he was reading, however he felt about it. She opened the oven door and carefully placed the meat pie inside before closing the door quickly to keep the heat in.

“Then the p-puh…pup…” August stuttered aloud.

“Sound it out,” Ruby said as she lifted the lid to the potatoes boiling away.

“P-uh-pet,” August said slowly. “Puppet!”

“There you go,” Ruby said, flashing him a smile over her shoulder before she turned her attention back to her work.

Another heavy sigh sounded before August whined, “I’m tired of reading. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Ruby shrugged. “Okay.”

The air was heavy with silence before a small voice asked, “Okay?”

Ruby turned around to face the redheaded boy whose eyes were wide in disbelief. “If you don’t want to have adventures, then that’s fine by me,” she said nonchalantly. She turned around, her back to the boy as she bit her lip. She could _feel_ him shifting in his seat, his confusion palpable.

“There’s no adventures in books,” he stated firmly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ruby said in a sing-song voice. “In the pages of a book, you can be anything you want, and you can travel to far-away lands. You can be the knight slaying a dragon, or a pirate on the search for the treasure, or the best shot in the west.” Ruby grabbed the handles of the pot with a towel and carefully made her way to the sink to drain the water through the slit she held in the lid. After the loud splash sounded, she continued. “Books can open up new worlds to you, because they help you learn, and then you can grow up to be whatever you want to be. A doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, a scientist. It all starts with these books.”

She placed the pot back on the stove away from the heat and looked at August, who chewed on his lip. “But if you don’t want any of that, I understand,” she finished innocently.

“Well… it might not hurt to try a little more,” he finally said.

“You won’t be sorry,” Ruby promised him with a smile. “Now, would you like to help me set the table or continue reading your story?” She turned to face him with her hand on her hip.

“I’ll keep reading,” he said quickly, all but burying his nose behind the cover that read “The Adventures of Pinocchio”.

“Wise choice,” Ruby said with a nod, expecting to do it by herself all along.

The pleasant “clink” of dishes and cutlery filled the room as August continued to sound out the words on which he was stuck.

“I’m tired of this Jiminy Cricket,” August huffed. At the same time, the door swung open to reveal Archibald, back from his outing.

“You don’t like Jiminy Cricket?” Archibald said as he took his hat off and hung it up.

Ruby smiled in greeting as she filled up a mug with coffee. After Archibald had shrugged off his coat and hung it up beside his hat, she offered him the mug. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Archibald said with his warm smile that crinkled his eyes. He quickly returned his gaze to his son. “What’s wrong with Jiminy Cricket?” he asked, bringing the drink up to his lips for a sip.

“He’s so boring, Pa. He’s such a goody-two-shoes.”

“Hey,” Archibald protested, making his way around the table. He gave Ruby’s shoulder a squeeze before he reached his son and he leaned over to kiss the boy’s hair. “The conscience is my favourite.”

“That’s because _you’re_ a goody-two-shoes, Pa,” August sighed, dropping his gaze back to his book.

Archibald let out a mock gasp and looked to Ruby. Ruby shrugged and returned her attention to the stove. “Don’t pull me in to it,” she teased, bringing the pie out of the oven and carefully placing it in the middle of the table.

“I guess I’m on my own,” Archibald chuckled, and Ruby couldn’t deny the sound lifted her heart along with the giggle of the little boy. She looked over and met Archibald’s gaze, his eyes bright as he beamed at her, and she could feel her own smile widen until she remembered herself and looked away.

“Alright, August, time to wash up. Miss Ruby’s dinner smells particularly good tonight.”

Ruby smiled her thanks as she set the boiled potatoes on the table along with the pie. _And it looks particularly amazing, too,_ she thought to herself, noting the golden crust.

August was chatty during the meal, like usual, and Archibald smiled and nodded, his focus on his son. Ruby had hoped to ask him about his day and what he’d done, but she could barely get a word in edgewise. It was not an appropriate time to discuss what she really wanted to know, anyway, and it really wasn’t any of her business what Mr. Hopper did in town.

Soon, dinner was over, and the washing was quickly finished with some help from August while Archibald did the last of the chores outside by lantern-light. They were all eager to settle down in front of the fire, an indulgence that came earlier and earlier with the sunsets coming sooner and sooner.

Ruby set herself up behind the sewing machine, anxious to finish at least one dress before she burst the seams of her current clothes. Her swelling belly was more obvious than ever, and she could only fit into her skirts if she wore them high on her stomach, having given up on her dresses for the time being.

Tonight, Archibald sat in the rocking chair with August on his lap. Ruby noticed how the firelight made both father’s and son’s hair glow, and they looked a pretty picture with Archibald’s cheek nestled against August’s temple.

“Have I ever told you the story of Peter and the Wolf?” Archibald asked, and August broke into a grin.

“I love that one!”

Ruby’s heart lurched at the mention of Peter, but she brushed the thought aside as Archibald’s calming voice began the story.

“Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Peter who lived deep in the woods with his grandfather. Now, this was a long time ago, when the threat of wolves was very great, and Peter’s grandfather warned the little boy not to go out by himself. But Peter wasn’t afraid. No, in fact—he was determined to go out into the woods and kill the wolf himself to show his grandfather how brave he was.

“Now, his grandfather thought little boys of six years old should not be hunting, and so he brought Peter back into the cabin and made him stay indoors. But soon, Grandfather was fast asleep, and Peter slipped outside and made his way across the snow and into the woods.”

Ruby listened to the story along with August, and she tried to keep her sewing machine as quiet as possible so she could make out Archibald’s voice.

“Peter hadn’t gotten very far when he met a bird. ‘Can I go hunting, too?’ asked the little bird.” Ruby smiled at the way Archibald expertly pitched his voicer higher—clear and light, exactly like a little bird.

“Peter agreed, and soon they were on their way. A little farther along, Peter and the bird met a duck. ‘Can I go hunting, too?’ asked the duck”—Archibald’s spoke through his nose, creating a raspy noise like a duck—“and Peter agreed.”

Ruby saw the contented smile on August’s face as he listened to his pa, and the little boy’s hands rested on his father’s arms, which were wrapped around the boy’s middle.

“No sooner had the three of them started again than a cat crossed their path. ‘Can I join you?’ she purred”—his voice smooth like a cat’s—“and Peter nodded.

“The band of four trudged through the snow when the duck and the bird began to squabble. ‘You stepped on my tail!’ cried the duck.” Archibald cried through his nose into one of August’s ears. “‘You stopped far too soon!’ cried the bird.” Archibald chirped into the other ear, and August giggled.

“Nobody noticed the wolf who had been watching the whole scene.” Ruby felt a shiver run down her spine at the dark tone in Archibald’s voice. She shook her head at herself and continued sewing along the bodice of her dress, anxious to avoid making any mistakes.

“Suddenly, the wolf leapt out of his hiding spot and chased after the duck.” Archibald jolted August in his arms, gripping the boy’s middle and causing him to squeal in delight. “Over and around, up and down and sideways”—he tilted the boy sideways off of his lap, and then to the other side, before righting him once more— “the wolf chased the duck, until the only thing the friends saw was a little green feather floating down to the white snow.” His voice was soft and solemn as his fingers danced downwards through the air, mimicking the movement of a feather.

“Poor duck,” August said with a smile, and Ruby had a feeling the boy knew that all was not as it seemed.

“Poor duck,” Archibald agreed into the boy’s ear. “This sad turn of events renewed Peter’s resolve, and he was more determined than ever to catch that mean old wolf. He made a loop—a lasso—with his rope, and he threw one end over the branch of a tree.” Archibald moved August’s hands through the motions of tying the rope and throwing it up. “Peter was ready for that wolf, and when it did come back, it walked right into his trap. Peter pulled with all his might”—Archibald’s voice became tight as he pretended to pull hard—“and the wolf didn’t know what had hit him.

“The wolf struggled against the rope, but Peter held it tight so that it gripped the wolf’s tail. The bird fluttered back and forth, making the wolf even angrier, his fur standing on end and his teeth bared and snarling”—Archibald ran his fingers through his hair to make it stand straight up and he snapped his teeth like a wolf—“and the bird got so excited that it knocked it’s head on the tree.” Archibald smacked his forehead with his palm just hard enough to make a _thwack_ , and August giggled.

“Peter held onto that rope with all his might as he told the little bird to fly for help. The bird flew as fast as it could, but by the time he came back with Peter’s grandfather, Peter had tied the wolf all up. Peter was safe up in the tree with the wolf dangling underneath the branch.”

Ruby realized she wasn’t sewing at all, and she gave up on her work and watched the pair as the story played out.

“Peter was a hero when he and his grandfather paraded the wolf through the town. The threat was defeated, and now everyone—including Peter—could safely hunt whenever they wanted. The End.”

“Pa,” August laughed. “You forgot the duck!”

“Oh! The duck!” Archibald exclaimed with an exaggerated sense of remembrance, and Ruby smiled. “How could I forget?

“Everyone was happy, except Peter—he’d lost his friend, the duck, to the wolf. But shortly after, he returned to that very tree only to discover that the duck was hiding in the hollow, right where they thought he’d been eaten!”

“And so it was a happy ending after all,” August declared.

“It was a happy ending after all,” Archibald agreed. He wrapped his arms around his son and kissed his temple while the boy leaned back in his father’s arms. August stretched his arms up on either side of his father’s head and dug his fingers into Archibald’s hair, lazily playing with his curls. No longer was he a stubborn nine-year-old, but a little boy of only two or three or five, happy in his pa’s arms. They both looked into the fire with contented expressions, and Ruby had to look away from the intimate scene.

Ruby’s hand settled on her stomach, and she longed to be able to give her child such moments with his father. It seemed wrong to let her sadness encroach on the cozy scene, however, and she quickly wiped her eyes and began her work on another seam of her dress, lining the fabric up neatly and joining them together with the tiny needle of the machine that bobbed up and down.

 

* * *

 

Sleep claimed Ruby quickly that night, a small blessing to be spared from her wandering thoughts. Her dreams were not so benevolent, however.

She found herself in an eerily familiar landscape—one she’d visited before, though how or when, she did not know. The last time she’d seen this spot from far away, but now she was up close to the tree that sprouted from the middle of the ground, a large rock not far away.

Suddenly, hope and fear gripped her heart as she encircled the tree looking for the little hollow. “Peter!” she called, unable to keep the cheer from her voice. She was sure she was going to find him hidden away, not lost at all but only keeping safe until the time was right.

Hope evaporated as Ruby peered inside the tree. It was empty, save for a piece of linen that she recognized from Peter’s shirt, floating down like a lonely feather before it caught in the corner of the bark.

“Peter!” Ruby called again, her voice shaking as she tried to fight the despair closing in on her. _You have to be here! It’s how the story ends!_

She clawed at the bark, trying to make the hole in the tree larger as if to find him there after all. Her hands were scraped raw, but she barely noticed the blood that started to trickle down her arms. “Peter!” she wailed.

Then, she became hunched over on all fours. Her hands were foreign to her, and when she looked, she realized they were no longer hands but huge, furry paws. She could see in the middle of her face that a long snout stood where he nose ought to be.

She tried to cry out, but no words would form—only an agonizing howl that echoed back to her, a piercing cry that seeped into her bones.

“Miss Ruby! Miss Ruby!” a frightened voice called out. Ruby opened her eyes to a dark room, panting in a cold sweat as she shot up in bed.

“Miss Ruby, it’s just me. It’s August!” the boy cried.

Ruby took deep breaths as she squinted in the direction of the voice. There was very little moonlight, but soon her eyes adjusted to the dark space just enough to see the form of a little boy leaning against his bed, his eyes wide as he stared back at her.

“Oh, August,” she breathed, her chest tight as she realized how much she must have frightened him. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She tried to keep her voice calm and steady as she fought to catch her breath.

He took a couple of steps closer, and Ruby reached out her arm to him. He took her hand, and before Ruby knew it, he threw himself into her arms and she held him tight.

“I’m okay,” she said into his hair as she stroked his back. “I just had a bad dream is all. I’m so sorry.”

She gave him a squeeze before he pulled back. “You were calling out in your sleep,” he explained, his voice small. “And you were moving around a lot.”

Ruby gave him a soft smile, though she wasn’t sure how much he could see. “I know,” she finally said. “But now that I’m awake, I know there’s nothing to be frightened of. It was just a silly dream.”

She thought he still looked unsure as he stood by her bed. “Why don’t you get back into your warm bed and I’ll tuck you in?” she said as she pulled back her quilts and brought her feet to the floor.

She could see just enough to make it across the couple of feet that separated her bed from his, and she heard him sink into the mattress.

“Will you be okay?” he asked quietly, and Ruby felt her chest ache even more.

“Of course I will,” she said in her most soothing voice. “Especially since I have you here to protect me. You will protect me, won’t you?”

She barely caught the movement of his nod, but it was there. She brought the quilts up to his chin and kissed his forehead. “Sweet dreams, August,” she murmured.

Then, she hopped into her own bed, grateful for the warmth that hadn’t completely disappeared. She blinked back tears as fear still gripped her heart, her nightmare feeling all too real.

Tears of frustration welled up, also. Tears at the fact that she was still having such nightmares when she thought they’d run their course. Tears at how she must have scared August half to death.

Her heart went out to the boy in a strange way. In the darkness, in the middle of the night, he was just a child needing reassurance—the same child who still loved hearing his father tell him his favourite story.

She curled in on herself under the covers and hugged her swollen middle. She wasn’t much for praying, but she prayed like she’d heard Archibald pray that August would be able to have a good sleep as she rubbed her abdomen. She vaguely wondered if she’d need to talk to the boy more in the morning, or if she’d need to explain things to Archibald. She hated the idea of telling him about her nightmares—it felt so childish, and she suspected he would worry about her—but she didn’t have time to make her mind up about anything before she drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Archie was in the middle of getting dressed when a knock sounded at the door of the lean-to. “Mr. Hopper?” Ruby’s light voice called through the door.

Archie scrambled to fasten his trousers before he swung open the door, his chest bare, fearing the worst. “What’s wrong?” he blurted out, squinting at the blurry figure in front of him.

“Oh, uh—n-nothing,” Ruby stuttered as she glanced down. “I only wanted to get any garments you might like me to wash. I was hoping to get things soaking before breakfast.”

Archie tried not to shiver as he stood in the doorway. “Yes, of course.” He glanced around the small space, a little messy with some clothing strewn about as he was in the middle of dressing. He shrugged on his shirt and grabbed his glasses, shoving them on the bridge of his nose before he straightened the edge of his shirt.

He grabbed at the other items that he knew he’d not be wearing and turned around to hand the armful to Ruby, barely taking a step in the small space.

“Thank you kindly,” he said as he handed them to her.

She gave him a polite smile with a nod and pivoted to head back to the house.

“Wait!” he called before she could take another step. She turned around, her arms full, and Archie felt a pang of guilt for keeping her outside when he could see their breaths in the air. Still, this would be easier without August around.

“I just wanted to ask you something,” he said as he took a couple of steps to close the distance between them. Her features fell, and he placed a hand on her arm before he thought better of it and pulled it back. “With winter almost here, I wanted to ask again if you wanted to visit your husband’s grave. It’s entirely up to you, but I just wanted to give you the opportunity since you won’t be able to do so for awhile once the snow comes deep.”

Ruby looked away and bit her lip, and Archie tried to ignore the thought that she looked right pretty with her cheeks nipped pink by the cold. No, she needed to get back inside.

“Did August say something to you?” she asked.

Now it was Archie’s turn to be confused, and he furrowed his brow. “August? No, I haven’t seen him this morning. What do you mean?”

Ruby shook her head and gave him a faint smile. “Nothing. I mean, well, it’s not nothing. I might have startled him a bit last night when I had a bad dream, but I talked to him.”

“Are you okay?” Archie asked, concern in his voice as he took a small step closer.

“I’m fine,” she replied with a brighter smile that didn’t quite convince him. He wanted to say more, but it was an odd conversation to have outside while she held a bundle of his clothing.

“Think about what you’d like to do,” Archie said. “It’s entirely up to you.” He took a step backwards, lingering on his heel as he waited for her reaction.

“Yes—I will.” She offered him a faint smile—more genuine—before she turned back and hurried around the house to the front door.

Archie shivered as he rushed back his little room. He didn’t even bother to make his bed as he tucked in his shirt, grabbed his coat and hat, and rushed to join the others in the warmth of the house, ignoring the heat that bloomed across his cheeks and neck at the realization that Ruby had stumbled across him half dressed. Surely she hadn’t noticed. Hopefully she hadn’t noticed.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Ruby to decide that yes, she wanted to visit her husband’s—the father of her child’s—grave. They set off the next day, at her insistence, and Archie wondered if she was afraid she’d reconsider if they left it too long. He remembered the fear in her eyes when he’d asked her over a month ago—the pain that clouded over her green eyes and took her to another realm for an instant before she shook her head and firmly told him “no”.

For himself, Archie was glad to get the visit over with since the weather would be unforgiving soon enough, with little warning. If he was truly honest with himself, though, he was looking forward to the winter months ahead, with more evenings spent in the glow of the fire like the ones they’d already shared. His heart lifted at the thought of spending more time as a family, away from town, safe from the possibility of Ruby being reminded of her past.

That was selfish of him, he knew—more than he cared to admit.

After they’d left August with strict instructions about his chores and his lessons that he needed to complete—ensuring that he’d not get into mischief—Ruby and Archie sat together in silence, side-by-side on the wagon seat as Archie drove on. The midday sun, which would be hanging low in the sky, was hidden behind gray clouds, and the landscape felt particularly dreary with more mud and brown grass than snow. The wind was not too bitter, but the chill in the air still seeped into his bones, and Archie was glad for the red coat that Ruby hugged tightly around her with her arms crossed over her middle.

Archie kept his gaze fixed straight ahead as he drove Cleo towards the rough wooden cross poking out of the ground, barely visible beneath the stark branches of the tree that loomed overhead. The ache in his chest grew tight as he remembered when he first saw Ruby, hunched over the ground, soaked through, her hair clinging to her cheeks and neck with her eyes red and puffy. She was devastatingly beautiful and heartbroken, and Archie had prayed that he could help take away her pain, sending his silent request up to Heaven as he gathered the courage to make his proposition.

He stopped the wagon a few feet away from the grave with a gentle tug at the reins. He waited a moment before he spoke. “Would you like me to come with you or would you like to go alone?”

Ruby stared straight ahead, and Archie’s breath hitched in his throat as he waited for her answer. “I think—I th-think I’d like to be alone,” she said finally, her voice so quiet that Archie almost missed her words.

“Of course.”

He hopped down and made his way to the other side of the wagon, reaching up to take her hand to help her down to the ground. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready,” he said, and she nodded before she started in the direction of the cross with steady steps.

Archie leaned with his back against the side of the wagon, his gaze fixed unseeing on the horizon in the opposite direction of Ruby.

“Lord, please be with her,” he breathed, closing his eyes. “You’ve helped bring her this far, but the wound is still so deep. Please, give her Your healing. Let her know Your peace.” He took a deep breath before adding, “In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

Archie blinked away a few tears and climbed back into the seat of the wagon. He leaned forwards, his elbows resting on his knees, and he kept his gaze fixed on his hands, save for a glance every now and then towards the woman kneeling in the brown grass at the foot of the grave, her red coat a stark contrast to the dreary landscape.

After a little while, the clouds parted, allowing some sunlight to escape to touch the earth. It was oddly pretty, the pink-gold glow behind Ruby that cast long shadows of the tree and the cross reaching towards them.

Then, an image came to mind of two other graves, simple, made of stone, standing neatly beside each other as a matching pair. He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and he tried to blink away the picture that fought to imprint itself on his mind.

He looked down and took a deep breath to expel the ghosts that threatened to haunt him. That was so long ago, and so much good had happened since then, he tried to tell himself.

He glanced up to see Ruby making her way towards him, and he jumped down to her side of the wagon. Her gaze was fixed on the ground, one arm across her middle as she wiped her cheeks dry with the other. She finally met Archie’s gaze once she reached the wagon, and he tried to offer her a reassuring smile.

“I’m ready to go home,” she said softly.

Archie nodded, caught between the way his heart lifted when she said “home” and the way his chest ached to see the pain so fresh in her eyes. Her grief was raw, and though Archie wished he could make it hurt less, he knew the process of healing. Like iodine on an open wound, the sting was unbearable at first, but it would make the healing all the more complete.

She took his hand and stepped up into the wagon, curling in on herself once she was seated. Archie raced to his side and climbed up, eager to return to the cabin where August was waiting for them—with the warmth of the fire and a hot dinner to be had.

With a flick of the reins and a _click_ of his tongue, they were off.

The sun was almost below the horizon as they drove and Archie noticed Ruby shiver beside him. Thankfully, it was not very cold, but Archie knew the effect of grief, and so he carefully put one arm across Ruby’s shoulders. He held his breath, unsure of her reaction, but his heart warmed when she leaned her head on his shoulder. He thought he heard a sniffle escape, and he fought the urge to press a kiss to the top of her head, despite the layers of her hood and bonnet.

He wished he knew what to say, but he suspected that words would only crack the moment of bittersweet serenity. And so, they drove the short distance back to the homestead in silence with her nestled in the crook of his arm, the pressure of her tucked up beside him making his heart ache even more.


	14. Giving Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having finally acknowledged her grief, Ruby soon realizes she still has some things to be grateful for.

The visit to Peter’s grave felt like a ghostly interlude in the midst of Ruby’s busy days, the memory already faint as she continued on with the week’s chores of baking and scrubbing and sewing. Still, she was grateful to Archibald for encouraging her to do it, and for taking her to the site. It was painful, as she imagined it would be, but after the initial blow, the squeezing in her chest, she found a soothing balm in the midst of the ache. There was a release in telling Peter about the last couple of months in this new frontier. However silly, she felt a sense of relief to tell him—to say the words aloud—that he was going to have a son, as if he could hear her from wherever he was. Maybe it was a foolish notion, a childish superstition, but she held on tightly to the comfort that somehow, he knew.

The memory grew vivid before her as she sat beside Archibald once more, nestled in between him and August as they rode to the Nolans’ for Thanksgiving dinner. Archibald’s steady presence beside her was warm, and she could imagine his arm around her as it had been when he’d driven her home from the grave—an intimacy that unnerved her in its appeal. The wind whipped around them, and Ruby held August close as if to shield him from the November chill and the snow that swirled around, having been dragged up from the landscape. The line of the horizon was blurry and gray, and Ruby was glad when they soon rolled up to the Nolans’ cozy cabin to escape both the winter weather and her proximity to her own husband.

The scene inside was warm and inviting, and Ruby beamed as Mary Margaret gushed over her growing belly—and admired the red coat that Ruby shrugged off, her raised eyebrows causing Ruby to whisper, “I’ll tell you later,” as they embraced as way of an explanation soon to come.

An opportunity for the women to have some time alone came quickly, with David helping Archie to unhitch Cleo from the wagon and to get the old mare settled in the barn. Mary Margaret instructed August and Emma to set the table, leaving Ruby and herself to the last minute preparations in the kitchen, with baby Leo fixed in his chair at the table and babbling away in the midst of the bustle.

“You wouldn’t believe everything that Archibald brought home from town a couple of weeks ago,” Ruby exclaimed as she stood over the pot of potatoes, mashing them thoroughly. “You’d think he was preparing for a whole twelve months of winter!”

Mary Margaret grinned as she pulled the roast goose out from the oven, and Ruby’s eyes grew wide. “Well, his family has doubled in size,” she teased. More seriously, she added, “He finally has someone to take care of. I mean, a woman. I don’t think he’d admit it, but he’s been looking forward to having this for a really long time.”

Ruby tried to hide her frown as something stirred in her. It was touching, and she appreciated his generosity, but Mary Margaret spoke like they were a permanent family rather than temporary companions.

“I know it’s not the same thing,” Mary Margaret added with a glance to Ruby before she returned her attention to the goose. “I just think he’s trying to make the most of it, is all. And I’m certainly grateful to have another woman around.”

Ruby nodded and smiled, her own gratitude washing over her as Mary Margaret gave her arm a squeeze. Then, the men burst in through the door, quickly shutting it to the wind that tried to encroach on the happy room. The children rushed to their fathers, barely letting them get their coats hung up, and David hurried over to Leo and swung him up into his arms.

“Everyone needs to wash up first!” Mary Margaret instructed, her voice clear and firm as it rose above the flurry of activity.

Somehow, they managed to get everything on the table and everyone seated around it. The delicious aromas made Ruby’s mouth water, and a lump rose in her throat as everyone held hands and David prayed for the blessing of the meal, giving thanks for the Lord’s provisions for another year. “Amen,” Ruby murmured with everyone else, truly grateful for the abundance of food in front of her when her months of travelling in a covered wagon with nothing to eat but cornmeal gruel and pancakes were still a not-so-distant memory.

She noticed Archibald’s eyes light up as he passed around the dishes of cranberry sauce and gravy and laughed at something David had said. Emma and August gobbled up their dinners, though they tried to get away with avoiding their Brussels sprouts. Once they had dutifully eaten everything, they enjoyed their three grains of parched corn that sat beside their plates.

“It’s to remember the generosity of the Indians when the first pilgrims had nothing, and they shared their food with them,” August explained after Archibald’s coaxing, earning him applause from the adults, though much to Ruby’s amusement, the children seemed to care about the sweet treat more than the significance behind it.

The delicious meal of goose and potatoes and roast vegetables soon gave way to pumpkin pie and oat cakes, with coffee for the adults. Before she knew it, Ruby was so full she was sure she’d doubled in size, though she insisted she could help Mary Margaret clean up.

As she helped with the washing and drying, Ruby noticed David and Archibald sitting by the fire. Somehow, Archibald had ended up with baby Leo in his arms, rocking the infant to sleep on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her heart warmed at the image, as if it was proof—if she needed any—that she had been most fortunate in finding herself aligned with such a man for the winter. Her hand rested on her belly, and with a start she realized that the men sat in the same place where Archibald and Ruby had stood only two months ago when they were joined as husband and wife.

“How quickly time passes,” Ruby heard a distant voice say, and she turned around to focus on Mary Margaret.

“He’s getting so big,” Ruby said with a smile to hide the subject of her thoughts.

“And your own little one will be here before you know it,” Mary Margaret added, and Ruby stroked her belly in agreement.

Still, how far away March felt.

It didn’t take much to convince Archie to pull out his fiddle, and Ruby laughed to see August and Emma dancing, swinging around with their arms hooked together, trying not to trip over their feet. Ruby was amazed at the lightness of the notes that Archibald could string together, the fluid motion of his bow over the strings in an expert dance. The cheer in the room was so palpable, and Ruby wondered if they’d be lucky enough to hear such music over the coming months. It transported her, and it would be a shame to keep such beauty that could chase away the gloom of winter hidden in a drawer.

Ruby’s heart sank when it was finally time to leave their friends, though the whistle of the wind outside made her eager to return to their own fire. The promises to get together soon felt hollow with the threat of winter upon them, but Ruby prayed that they would be together before too long—an idea already forming in her head before they had even passed through the doorway. Ruby was highly aware of Archibald’s hand resting on her back for a moment before he helped her with her coat. He quickly turned his attention to August, bundling the boy up as Ruby said her goodbyes to Mary Margaret and David and thanked them for their hospitality.

Once they were back home, August was quickly sent to bed with little protest. The howling outside made Ruby shiver, and Archie asked if she was warm enough as he immediately placed another log on the fire.

“I’m fine,” she assured him with a smile, hugging her shawl close. “I was just thinking…”

Between the chill in the air when she’d collected his clothes earlier that week, and the biting wind outside now, Ruby hated the idea of Archibald sleeping in the lean-to, which offered such little protection from the cold. She could still picture his bare chest when she surprised him one morning, their breaths lingering in the air, and felt the slightest heat creep into her cheeks.

“I mean, it’s getting so cold outside, and that shack is not fit to be a bedroom.” She glanced down as he took a step towards her. “You shouldn’t have to sleep out in this cold just because I’m here. We can set up your bed in the far corner, and I can hang a sheet across to give you some privacy.”

She looked up when he didn’t say anything, and she thought she saw a faint smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally said. “But you’re sure that’s alright?”

Ruby chuckled softly. “It’s going to be a long winter if we’re not comfortable with each other, Archie. I’m just sorry there’s nothing ready for you tonight.”

“I-I’ll be fine,” he stuttered.

Ruby nodded and opened her mouth before closing it. There was more she wanted to ask him, but she knew that if she began to voice her idea that she wouldn’t be able to stop, and it was far too late to get into anything more now.

“I’ll let you get to bed, then,” she said. “Good night.”

 

* * *

 

She quickly turned away, barely giving him a chance to murmur, “good night” in return as his heart hammered in his chest.

She’d called him “Archie”. Not “Archibald”—which felt so stiff and formal—and not “Mr. Hopper”—which felt like he was some long-lost relative to which she was forced to be polite.

_Archie._

His heart also soared at her inviting him inside, but he fought to keep hope from bubbling up before it could no longer answer to reason. Besides, she was just being kind, with her warm smile that she also flashed at Mary Margaret and David.

As he settled into his cot for the night, the wind howled outside the thin walls of the lean-to. Archie fought off the image of her softly alit by the glow of the fire, her gaze lowered as she took a step back, as if offering him the room. He drifted off to sleep, her invitation fresh in his mind.

 

* * *

 

When Archie swung open the door to the house the next morning, Ruby was already hanging up a makeshift curtain. “Good morning,” she greeted cheerfully over her shoulder, perched on a chair with a hammer in her hand and a nail in her mouth, reaching as far as she could, just beyond the window.

He kicked the door shut behind him before he rushed to her side. “I can do that,” he offered, a little frantic to see her to safety.

“I thought you could move your bed in today,” she explained after she took the nail out from between her lips. She looked around for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to hold the hammer, the nail, and the corner of the sheet all at once, before meeting Archie’s gaze and taking his hand.

His heart calmed in his chest when her foot met the ground, and he took the tools from her, placing them on the table as she smoothed her skirts over her growing belly.

“I won’t be needing my bed until after breakfast at least,” he said with a chuckle to hide his overreaction.

As the three of them started their breakfast of bacon and biscuits, Archie thought that Ruby looked like she had something to ask. He remembered her hesitancy the night before—as if she’d stopped herself from voicing what she’d been mulling over—and he bit his lip to keep from prodding.

August was quieter than usual, and Archie suspected that their evening out was to blame for his son’s subdued composure. “I—I hope you enjoyed yourself last night,” Archie said into the quiet that had fallen over them. “I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

Ruby shook her head. “No, not at all,” she said quickly, and her eagerness lifted Archie’s heart. “In fact, it got me thinking…”

Archie swallowed his sip of coffee and raised his brows. “Hmm?”

She shifted in her seat and glanced down at her plate before looking up again, and Archie held his breath. “I mean, I was just wondering—what do you usually do for Christmas?”

Archie smiled and his shoulders relaxed. “Oh, we have a nice little celebration,” he told her. “Probably nothing as fancy as what you do in Boston, but we have our traditions.”

August piped up. “Pa gets a turkey from Mr. Brown’s farm, or he shoots a wild one if we’re snowed in. And we go out and get a big tree and put it up with decorations. And there’s presents and Pa brings out his fiddle and we usually see the Nolans, and—”

“Hey, now, August,” Archie interrupted, glancing at Ruby to see that she wasn’t overwhelmed. “There’s no need to be telling her all at once”—he said to his son—“and there’s no need to do much this year”—he directed towards Ruby. “I realize it must be a difficult reminder of what you’ve lost, so we can keep things simple.”

“No, no.” Ruby smiled and leaned over the table, her hands pressed together. “I mean, I think now, more than ever, is the time to celebrate all we have to be grateful for. And, well, I was thinking—if it is okay with you two—if we could invite the Nolans here for Christmas?”

Her eyes were bright and wide, her expression frozen in anticipation of his answer. Archie couldn’t deny her eagerness warmed him through, and he was thrilled to see her desire to plan for something—and a little in awe of her determination to approach the holidays with such cheer. And yet, he couldn’t ignore the doubts that chewed at him.

“Are you sure you’d be up to it?” he asked, and he saw her features fall. “No, no, I don’t mean it’s not a good idea,” he added quickly. “I just don’t want you to take on too much, what with this being your first Christmas here, and in your condition…” He trailed off when he realized his poor choice of words.

And yet, her features brightened the more he continued. “Oh, I’ll be fine,” she assured him with a wave of her hand, as if to brush aside any measly concerns. “I always helped Granny back home, and I’d love to make our own special Christmas this year. And I would so like to repay the Nolans back for their kindness—if it’s okay with you and August, of course.”

Her green eyes pleaded with his, so wide and hopeful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her what she asked. “I think that would be a wonderful idea,” he heard himself say, and his heart caught in his throat at the brilliant smile she flashed him.

It might have been the first time he’d seen her smile without a hint of sadness, and he was glad that he was sitting down, the way it made his knees weak and his insides melt like wax as if he were a schoolboy.

He wasn’t sure who was more excited about Christmas preparations—his son or Ruby—as they exchanged ideas over their breakfasts quickly growing cold. It didn’t take long for Archie to suspect that, even with Christmas being four weeks away, they might not have enough time to do everything on their rapidly growing list. Still, their enthusiasm was infectious, and Archie was thrilled to see Ruby truly excited about something, his dread over how the upcoming holiday would affect her proving unfounded.


	15. Three's a Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie adjust to living in even closer quarters.

Ruby was amazed at how light she felt once Archibald had agreed to her plans for Christmas. She wasn’t sure if she was asking too much, but it was only after he’d said “yes”—in particular, to having the Nolans over—that she realized how much she’d wanted it, and how much she would have been disappointed if he’d said, “no”.

There was bounce in her step after breakfast as she finished getting Archie’s corner ready. She shifted what furniture she could and gave everything a good scrubbing with soapy water before he brought his cot in from outside, along with his thin straw mattress that she was sure had seen better days. Ruby couldn’t help but fuss over getting him clean linens and tucking the corners of the blankets tightly around the thin mattress, guilt pricking her at the reminder that she was in his cozy bed instead of him.

She could feel the pressure of her little one inside her as she bent over, and she hoped that she still had a little while before he’d greatly impede her movement. As it was, her growing bump was a happy reminder of what was to come, and she hummed to herself as she finished making the bed. Then she stood up, hands on her hips as she took in her handiwork, pleased with a job well done. It was a humble space, but it was clean and, most importantly, _warm._ Mr. Hopper would not be sleeping out in the freezing cold as long as she could help it.

She gathered up the dirty blankets and stepped around the half-hung curtain. “All done,” she announced as Archibald came through the main door. He rushed over and tried to take the bundle from her arms, but she twisted away from his reach. “Honestly, Archie, it’s the least I could do.”

Goodness, he made it difficult to return his kindness with a simple gesture. Besides, the bedding was overdue for a proper cleaning, anyway.

“I could have made my bed,” he insisted, a sheepish smile gracing his features.

“I don’t doubt it,” Ruby laughed, dumping the heap in her arms into the giant tub by the hearth where it stood, awaiting the boiling water and soap. “But nothing compares to Granny Lucas’ tucked corners.”

Archie tipped his hat to her in thanks before he placed it on the table, making his way to the corner to finish her job of nailing in the curtain to create a temporary wall. She snatched glances of him at work as she hauled kettles of boiling water from the stove to the tub, the steam curling the stray strands of hair around her face. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his lips pursed to hold a couple of nails at the ready. She flinched at the banging that followed, but continued with her work. There was something nice about having some company during laundry day—usually a solitary task.

She thought she heard a cry from the corner, but when she looked over, she only saw the back of Archibald’s head. She shrugged, deciding against saying anything, and continued her paces back and forth between the stove and the hearth. She filled the tub up bucket by bucket, grateful for the pails of water just outside the door that August brought in from the pump for her, an aid that she was not too proud to accept. She was also grateful for the fresh air that swept into the cabin with each swing of the door as she wiped beads of sweat from her forehead, though she noticed Archibald kept his coat on while he worked inside.

 

* * *

 

 It took a little while for them all to grow accustomed to their new arrangements. Though Ruby had only been with them for a couple of short months, she already had her routines, and she thought nothing of drawing herself a hot bath one evening.

Once alone, Archie having left after he’d brought in the last pail of water, Ruby placed it on the stovetop to boil while she unfastened her dress and slipped out of it and her underclothes—a hurried process once she was exposed, eager for the comfort of the bath. The air was cold on her bare skin, but the water was deliciously hot as she slipped into the tub.

The water soothed her muscles and her stretched skin, and she closed her eyes in a moment of indulgent rest as the steam rose up and the water hugged her every surface. She splayed her hands over her belly, so pronounced once she was out of her layers of clothing. “Are you tired now, baby?” she murmured to her stomach, chuckling at the stillness within her, as if the child was at rest, too—not a single flutter.

She lathered the soap onto her washcloth and lazily wiped it over her neck and chest, her arms, and the rest of her body. She bit her lip at the thoughts of Peter that flew to her, unbidden, remembering the caresses of his hands if he caught her during bathtime, or how he would help her dry off.

How he would have loved to watch her grow! She would complain that she was too fat, and he would assure her that she was no such thing. He’d rub her stomach, his hands wandering lazily over her skin, marvelling at the life they’d created together.

She yearned for his touch in more ways than one, and she blinked back tears and willed herself to think of something else—anything else—as she stopped her hand from sliding down her stomach. She thought she was past the danger of losing herself to such thoughts during a moment of rest. Goodness, she needed it, but sometimes the exhaustion was worth it, if to save her from memories that made her ache all over.

Before a new wave of grief could take ahold of her, the main door opened, and Ruby froze. Panic seized her, and she hugged her chest in an attempt at modesty as Archie Hopper strode into the room.

He had already travelled a couple of paces before he noticed Ruby. He jumped back, flinging himself against the stove where it knocked him at the back of his knees. He stumbled, unable to stop himself from sitting on the hot surface before jumping up with a shriek.

“Archie!” Ruby cried, reaching on arm out as she stood straight up, fearing the worst at the loud _thud_ that sounded out of her view. She shot back down, hiding behind the sides of the tub, scrambling to find her towel with one arm stretched out, the edge of the tub digging into her arm as she reached for the covering.

She couldn’t see him anymore, and panic rose inside her chest. _Modesty be damned_ , she thought as she jumped up and scrambled over the side, a task made harder by her growing size. She grabbed the towel as quickly as she could and wrapped it around herself in one swift motion, pivoting in place to search for Archie.

She rushed around the table and saw him on the floor in front of the stove, unmoving. “Archie, are you okay?” she cried, trying to bend down to him, but thought better of it as she held the towel in place, her body not letting her move quite as she was used to.

“I’m fine,” he groaned, and Ruby let out a sigh of relief at the sign of consciousness. She stood, helpless, shifting her weight from foot to foot while he sat up.

He rubbed his eyes under his glasses before taking in his surroundings, and he quickly squeezed them shut when his gaze landed on her. “I’m so sorry, Ma’am, I didn’t mean to intrude—”

“No, no, it’s my fault—I should have let you know—I forgot that you were coming back—”

Ruby bit her lip, feeling very silly as she stood dripping in the middle of the kitchen while Archie kept his hand firmly planted over his eyes, his glasses riding up on his face.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just leave you to it, if you’re sure you’re okay,” Ruby said, unsure of where to look as she began to shiver, the air chilling her damp skin despite the warm stove beside her and the fire in the hearth behind her.

“Mmhmm,” Archie said with a nod, his eyes still closed.

Ruby tiptoed to her room, leaving her dress and underthings on Archie’s rocking chair as she closed the bedroom door behind her with more force than she intended. She held her breath, her gaze shooting to August to make sure he hadn’t awoke. Then, she stifled a rogue giggle behind her hand, not wanting to wake up a clueless August who had miraculously stayed fast asleep.

She should definitely feel more guilty about giving poor Mr. Hopper a heart attack, but there was something too delightful in knowing she could have such an affect on a man as stoic as him, even when she was a few months pregnant.

 

* * *

 

 Neither Ruby nor Archie mentioned the incident the next morning, though Ruby had to turn away a couple of times to hide a smirk. Still, she hoped he wasn’t too badly injured, but she thought better of asking him about it. She could at least save his pride that wound.

Ruby was eager to get through her chores to use what little time she had left in the day to begin on Christmas preparations. It was too early to start decorating with greenery—perhaps she could enlist August to help her with that next week—so for the time being, she decided that she could make some curtains with the spare fabric she had. She hated the thought of having the Nolans celebrating with them in a naked room. It was about time the Hoppers had some proper curtains.

It was nice to be able to throw herself into a special project, and for the first time, Ruby felt she was checking off the days and crossing off her tasks in anticipation of something, not just in the grim acceptance of one getting through another day.

Her calculations proved correct, and she was able to make enough curtains for the main room out of the same forest green gingham fabric. Well, save for one small window at the back of the house, for which she had to make do with the same paisley-green fabric that she’d used for August’s vest, but that window was hidden behind Archie’s “room”, anyway.

She was mostly able to evade August and Archie’s questions about what it was she was making at her machine in the evenings, but in the end she had to reveal her secret to the father so she could enlist his help with the rods. She imagined some simple hooks would be sufficient, but she was amazed at the stunning wooden rods he brought back with him from the barn one day.

“Archie, these are beautiful!” she beamed at him, placing a grateful hand on his arm before she took the rods from him. They were so perfectly round and smooth that she couldn’t believe they’d come from human hands, and she twirled them around between her fingers in awe.

Then, she remembered herself, and they worked quickly to take advantage of the time alone when August was outside feeding the animals. Ruby fed the rods through the fabric loops while Archie fastened the wooden fixtures above each window. She watched him slip each rod snugly into the wooden brackets, and Ruby stopped herself from reaching up to touch the craftsmanship, the semi-circles hugging the curtain rods in place.

After every window was hung with its matching drapery in the main room—which Ruby was beginning to think of as their “parlour” more and more—she followed Archie behind the fabric divider to help him hang the last curtain in place. She shook her head at herself, her odd hesitancy to enter his space until he gave her a nod, and she held her breath to see the last curtain go up.

“That’ll do nicely,” he said, taking a step back to join her as she scrutinized her work. She let out a sigh of relief to see that her measurements had been correct, and she flashed Archie a grin.

“Much better than the lean-to, huh?” she teased, giving him a little prod with her elbow as they stood side-by-side.

He nodded to her, a little more serious than she was expecting. “They’re great. Thank you.” Then, he quickly disappeared behind the curtain, mumbling something about chores and August. Ruby frowned, though she brushed it off as a man’s disinterest in draperies.

August was only mildly pleased when he came in with his pa for dinner, though he did mention something about needing curtains in the bedroom now, too. Archibald scolded his son, but Ruby laughed and assured him that she would definitely make them some curtains for the bedroom.

It wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for, but oh, well. She liked them enough for the three of them, and she knew that soon the house would be decorated to the roof with Christmas cheer. They would appreciate the end result, surely.

 

* * *

 

 One evening found the three of them gathered by the hearth, the same way they were most nights. Ruby and August were seated close to the fire, side by side, a book in Ruby’s hands as she read to them from a worn copy of “Oliver Twist.” Archie sat at the table, cleaning his gun with automatic motions, happy to listen to the story while he worked. He chuckled to see August curled up close to Ruby and resting his arm and chin on the armrest of her rocking chair. The firelight made the boy’s red hair glow from behind, and he caught the flicker of light in Ruby’s eyes as they danced with merriment while she read about the adventures of the Artful Dodger and Fagan.

Truth be told, Archie was not particularly paying attention to the words she spoke. Rather, he let himself be lulled by the sweet tone of her voice, and the excitement that coloured her features.

Suddenly, she stopped, and her eyes widened. For a moment, panic seized Archie, and he felt his stomach drop. “Is everything alright?” he asked, his hands frozen in place.

“August, feel this!” Ruby exclaimed as her face lit up. She dropped the book on her lap and grabbed the boy’s hand, pressing it to her stomach. “Just wait—there! Did you feel it?”

Archie relaxed slowly as realization dawned on him. He let out a breath and sat back in his chair, though he kept his eyes fixed on Ruby and August, his grip still tight on his gun.

August frowned, unsure of what he was supposed to be feeling. Then, he beamed. “I feel it!” he exclaimed.

Ruby threw Archie a grin. “He’s kicking!” she cried with girlish excitement. Archie felt like he’d lost all breath to see her filled with such unbridled joy, like the way his stomach lurched when he would jump off the cliffs into the pond below in his youth.

He would have given anything to be the one sitting beside her—the one whose hand she grabbed without thought. He shook his head at himself as he realized his foolishness, and he swallowed. “That’s wonderful,” were the only words he could manage with his lips dry.

He returned to his task, fighting hard to ignore Ruby and August’s attempts to feel another movement. Eventually, they gave up and settled back into the story, but Archie had a feeling that they were all a little distracted from the work of Charles Dickens.


	16. Treats, Temptations, and Christmas Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hopper family begins to prepare for their first and only Christmas together—which includes a task that affects Archie in an unexpected way.

The following week, the real fun began. Ruby was eager to move ahead with Christmas preparations, spurred on with new energy from the movements of her little one inside. She got Archie to help her dig out a couple more recipe books her grandmother had given her, still tucked away in her trunk out in the barn. While the week’s bread was in the oven, she pored over the books, marking the recipes she wanted to try, and she painstakingly edited down her choices to a more reasonable workload. Archie and August were more than willing testers that week, and August announced that the gingerbread was his favourite.

“Gingerbread it is,” Ruby agreed, wiping her brow with her forearm as she took in her handiwork, the table covered in treats.

“Oh, you’ve got something—” Archie began, taking a step towards Ruby.

“Hmm?” she said, meeting his blue eyes, almost piercing in clarity behind the wire frames of his glasses. She froze, transfixed for a moment as he wet his thumb and brushed it across her face, right above her eyebrow, his other hand cupping her cheek.

“You, uh, just had some flour there,” he mumbled, taking a quick step back, and Ruby thought she caught a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said, ignoring the slight pounding in her chest. It was just the heat from the oven, she told herself. No wonder Granny always looked flushed, working over a hot stove all the time.

“So you like them?” she asked the two Hopper men, a grin spreading across her cheeks to see August’s mouth completely full.

“I’m not complaining,” Archie said, reaching for a tart, and Ruby smacked his hand lightly.

“You’re worse than August!” she teased, feeling a flush rise in her own cheeks. “You boys need to leave some room for supper. Besides,” she added, her hands on her hips, “I need you to go out and get as much greenery as you can find. We need to cover this whole room in evergreen branches.”

Archie nodded dutifully and guided August towards the coats hanging up by the door. “Any specific kinds, ma’am, or does anything green count?”

Ruby shook her head and bit back a smile. “Anything that looks like Christmas,” she instructed. “But no tree! Not yet—that will be for Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Archie said with a salute, and August echoed the gesture.

“We’ll bring back so much greenery, you’ll think you lived in a forest!”

After they added a few more layers, tightly wrapped in hats and scarves, the two were out the door, and Ruby was left to finish her baking in peace, free from the threat of two hungry men. She was pleased with her success, taking a deep breath with the smell of ginger and cinnamon wafting throughout the room.

Ruby soon realized she might have overdone it on her practice runs, but she was more confident than ever that she’d be able to pull off the perfect Christmas, now that she had some Christmas baking under her belt. She couldn’t resist snacking on a gingerbread man herself, decapitating the poor fellow in an act of mercy, chewing on her treat as she tucked everything away in tins. The cookie was a little dry and overdone, but the praise from a nine-year-old boy was impossible to argue with, and so she gave herself a mental score for a victory well earned.

She took advantage of the time alone to work on August and Archie’s Christmas presents. August’s was easy to enough to come up with—along with some new shirts and socks, she thought she would knit him a fancy new scarf and embroidery his initials on it with the bright golden yellow yarn she had. His father, however, was a harder subject. She had some new shirts for him, also, but she needed something else.

Oh, well, she had plenty to do in the meantime, and plenty of time to decide, with Christmas still a couple of weeks away. She didn’t get nearly enough knitting done on the boy’s scarf, anyhow, before the door swung open and Ruby quickly hid her knitting behind the cushions of her chair.

True to their word, Archie and August brought in armfuls of green boughs, and Ruby had to admit she was impressed. The hour was too late to use them that night, but they made neat piles on the porch, safely away from the heat of the fireplace inside, before tucking into dinner. Ruby noticed with a smile that no one’s appetite had been the least bit spoiled by their sampling the Christmas treats.

 

* * *

 

Soon, the little cabin was covered in green boughs and wreaths decorated with bits of ribbon that Ruby had saved. She also enlisted August’s help to make decorations of paper chains from scraps of coloured paper that she had collected. With Christmas nearing, it was impossible not to feel cheerful, and the colour that hung about the cabin lifted Ruby’s spirits as she worked hard on her list of things to do, which never seemed to shrink as much as it grew.

She also had a sense that August and Archie both had their own secrets as they all withdrew more and more, everyone eager to finish their chores as quickly as possible. She wondered what projects they might be undertaking but tried to keep her curiosity at bay. Besides, she had too many other things to do to be snooping like a child.

Archie and Ruby had their own secret project—a little wooden “Noah’s ark” set for August. They worked together at night after August went to sleep, and Ruby began to cherish those quiet hours, excitement bubbling in her chest as she pictured August’s reaction. Archie had carved pairs of every animal he could think of, along with a large ark in which to put them all. He’d even managed to make two halves of the giant boat and join them by a hinge so it could be opened and closed, like a dollhouse Ruby remembered seeing in a store window back in Boston.

It took her breath away, the detail with which he had carved every piece, and she was dying to know how a farmer had become such a master craftsman. Still, she didn’t dare disrupt the easiness between them, and he didn’t offer any information about his past. Instead, they worked happily together in the evening hours, basking in the glow of the fire and the flickering candlelight which illuminated their work. Ruby was careful as she painted each figure, taking pains to enhance rather than cover the details that Archie had so beautifully carved—the stripes of the tigers and the zebras, the spots of the giraffes and leopards, the beautiful clothing that he’d somehow captured with Noah and his family. It was a work of art.

So, too, did August and Ruby have a project for Archie. Ruby encouraged August to think of a present he could give his pa, and after something prodding, the boy decided that it would be best to write out some of his favourite stories and put them together in a book for his father. Ruby had some paints and crayons and paper, and August wrote out the stories with his own illustrations. He included the story of Peter and the wolf, and Noah’s ark, and the story of Pinocchio and his cricket, along with others that he wouldn’t let Ruby read. She backed off, happy to see that he was so engulfed in his book, and only helped when he asked her—which mostly meant checking his spelling of certain words and sewing up the pages together when he was done.

“August, this is beautiful!” she gushed when he handed the pile to her.

“Don’t read it,” he said firmly. “I want my pa to read it first.”

“I promise,” she said, her hand up, palm facing out for emphasis. “I will only put it together for you, but I won’t read it.”

Her heart warmed at the care that he had taken with it, and the trust he placed in her. She couldn’t help but think how far he had come since they first met, and she prayed that this coming Christmas would be special for him.

The mystery that tugged most at Ruby was Archie’s continued strange trips to town. They had stopped for awhile, but had picked up again, especially when the weather proved to be so clear this late into December. It made her uneasy, with the fear that a freak blizzard could stir up at any moment, leaving him stranded between the homestead and town. She also wondered why he would leave and come back with so little. Was everything okay? Were they hurting for money or supplies?

She tried to ignore the fears that niggled at her and told herself that it was none of her business what Archibald Hopper did with his time or money. She was holding up her end of the bargain, and he was more than holding up his end, so she had no right to pry.

 

* * *

 

During one of Archie’s mysterious absences, Ruby decided that August was far overdue for a haircut. His vibrant red hair was so long it was curling into ringlets, and though he put up a struggle, she was able to convince him.

“You want to look handsome for Christmas day, don’t you? Especially with the Nolans coming over?”

“Why does it matter what the Nolans think?”

“Really? You don’t mind having hair as long as Emma’s? And having it fall in your eyes all the time?”

“Well…”

“And just think how it will surprise your pa to come home to a proper gentleman!” Ruby gushed in a final push.

“Okay, fine.”

Ruby already had the scissors out and promptly guided August to a chair and tied a towel around his neck.

“Not too short, though, okay?” he said, pulling his head back for his final condition.

“Not too short,” Ruby agreed, turning his head straight and grinning to herself, grateful for the distraction from wondering where Archie was or what he was doing.

 

* * *

 

Archie was not prepared for the scene that greeted him when he opened the door to the cabin.

“Pa!” August cried, swinging his head to face the door before Ruby firmly turned his head back straight. “Miss Ruby said I have to get my hair cut.”

“Oh, she did, did she?” he said, turning around to close the door to hide his amusement from the boy. If anyone could get his son to agree to a haircut, it was Ruby.

Ruby grinned. “We’re almost done.” She bent down to mock whisper to August, “And by the looks of it, your father should be next.”

Archie started as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up with his hat. “Is that right?” he replied, turning around and settling down in the chair beside them. He ran a hand through his hair that was thinner than it used to be, flattened after being at the mercy of his hat all day, and embarrassingly long.

“Come on, Pa—if I have to look like a gentleman for Christmas, then so do you.”

“He’s right,” Ruby agreed. “I can’t have you boys looking shabby for our guests—and at _Christmas_.” Archie caught the sparkle in her eye as she teased him.

He licked his lips before he flashed them a smile of his own. “I guess I can’t say ‘no’ to that,” he admitted—though something in him told him that maybe it wasn’t a good idea.

He was helpless to their pleas, however, and he knew he needed a cut almost as badly as his son. Besides, August _did_ look the little gentleman with his cropped locks.

Before he knew it, he was sitting in the chair in front of Ruby, his glasses on the table as she tied the towel around him, her fingers fluttering along the nape of his neck. He held his breath as her fingers skimmed his temple, lifting the first section of hair, and he heard the metal click of the scissors.

“What’s Christmas like back in the city, Miss Ruby?” August asked from his perch on the seat that Archie had been in. Archie was grateful for a new topic of conversation, himself unable to think of anything except Ruby’s fingers along his neck and ear.

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Ruby replied. _Snip, snip._ “There are decorations up everywhere, with green and red as far as you can see. All the houses are so close together, and every door has a bright Christmas wreath on it.”

August’s eyes grew wide. “Houses _right_ beside each other?” he exclaimed.

 _Snip, snip._ Another brush of her fingers along his skin, running through his hair. Archie’s hands found the seat of the chair, and he gripped the hard edge.

Ruby laughed, and it sounded to Archie like a clear bell shooting right to his chest. “Yes, and sometimes carollers would come right to the door and sing. And Granny would make us hot chocolate, and then, the day before Christmas, we’d go to _Graham’s_ tree lot and get a Christmas tree.”

The excitement in Ruby’s voice made Archie’s heart swell, though he feared they’d not be able to give her the same sort of Christmas.

“There are trees growing right there in the middle of the city?” August said, his eyes wide again. Archie instinctively looked at his son, and Ruby gently guided his head straight ahead. Her touch was gentle but firm, and Archie felt his cheeks flush.

“Well, not exactly,” Ruby explained, slowly making her way around Archie’s chair as she worked from one side of his head to the other. He imagined his hair would make fast work of it, compared to August’s plentiful locks. And right now, he was glad of it, trying not to squirm in his seat for a very different reason than August, the swell of her stomach bumping against his shoulder.

“They grow the trees outside the city and then bring them in for folks to buy,” she continued along with the _snip, snip_ of the scissors. He was highly aware of her hovering over him, her scent wrapping around him. It was almost sweet, and perhaps a bit flowery, like honey…

“And after we get our tree, we go to _Simpson’s_ to pick up a beautiful glass ball to hang on the tree with the others.”

Archie pictured the beautiful ornaments he saw hanging up in _Gold’s_ , something that he never would have thought to get for himself and August. Still, he hoped Ruby would like what he had picked out for her.

His grip tightened on the chair, his mind barely focused on Ruby’s conversation with August as he tried to pull his thoughts from the feeling of her fingers running through his hair.

“We don’t have any glass balls, but we do decorate the tree with popcorn strings,” August said. “Though Pa always has to tell me to stop eating the popcorn when we make it.”

Archie smiled and nodded, earning him a chastisement from Ruby. “Hold still, Archie!” she chuckled, and Archie froze as her fingers gently tilted his head forward.

His pulse quickened as her fingers stroked the nape of his neck, shooting sparks to his core. He willed himself not to shiver and he prayed his cheeks weren’t too red. Goodness, it was warm, and he would have given anything to crack open a window—or, better yet, the door—but he didn’t want to make the others cold. Or give himself away.

“And after you decorate the tree, does your Pa read you the Christmas story from the Bible?” August asked Ruby brightly, kneeling on the chair with his elbows on the table, leaning closer to them.

Archie sensed her hesitancy, and she paused for a moment. “No,” she said slowly. “My pa… died a while back.”

_Snip._

“And your ma?”

_Snip._

“She, uh—she died, too.”

Archie could feel a lump rise in his throat. He realized how little he knew about Ruby, and he longed to know more. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel like she kept her past to herself like carefully guarded jewels, and he couldn’t fault her for keeping what little she had of her own to herself.

“Who are you going home for, then?” August asked innocently.

Another pause. “My granny,” Ruby said.

Her fingers moved to the top of his head and began lifting sections of hair straight up, accompanied by the metal click of the scissors once more, the fluff of the discarded ends floating to the floorboards.

“Well, at least this year you’re spending Christmas with us. And the Nolans. They’re not family, exactly, but sometimes you can spend Christmas with friends.”

“Mmhmm,” Ruby murmured quietly.

“I-I think that’s enough questions for now, August,” Archie warned gently, sensing a shift in Ruby’s mood. He wished he could think of something encouraging to say, but his tongue felt thick in his mouth, and her touch made him lose all thought.

Silence fell around them, save for the _snip, snip, snip_ of Ruby’s scissors, and Archie didn’t know which was worse—fearing that August was about to say something foolish, or the silence that let his mind run wild.

She walked around him, as if to critique her work. He froze as she bent over and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling slightly at the temples, her gaze flitting back and forth to either side of his head to judge the length before her eyes met his.

For a moment, neither of them moved, and Archie was sure time itself stood still as he stared into her pale green depths.

Then, she stood up, fluffing the hair on the top of his head with her comb. She shifted around to his side, tidying up a couple of spots, and Archie willed himself to look straight ahead.

He could see the soft curve of her pregnant belly out of the corner of his eye, and he knew with a slight turn of his head he could easily press his lips to that sweet spot, the rise of her middle….

His breaths came heavy, and he squeezed his eyes shut, praying that she was almost done. He should know better than to put himself in such a situation, and yet, here he was, no better than a schoolboy who was losing control.

As if to tempt him even further, she ran her fingers through his hair once more, and he dug his hands into the edge of the chair until he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t cut himself on the wood.

“I think we’re all done, Archie,” she said, combing out his hair. “What do you think, August?”

“You look good, Pa!” August agreed, and Archie gave his son a weak smile.

Then, Ruby untied the towel from his neck, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin once more to remove any stray hairs. She even began to blow them away, and he all but bolted from his chair.

“Th-thank you,” he stuttered, unable to look her in the face as he raced for his coat. She didn’t stop him or question him when he mumbled something about needing more wood. “I’ll be right back.”

Archie yanked the door open, grateful for the icy chill that met him on the other side. He all but slammed the door closed and collapsed against the sturdy wood, too tired to hold himself up.

He could see his heavy breaths cloud before him, and he realized he’d forgotten his glasses when he couldn’t focus on anything else along the horizon—not even the barn several yards away.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to forget the feel of Ruby’s touch along his skin, the sound of her voice so soft, like velvet, and what it might be like to have her lips brush against his ears, murmuring sweet nothings.

“Father, I’m not strong enough,” he breathed, sending up a desperate prayer to the heavens. Goodness, he was lusting after a woman carrying another man’s child!

“Get a hold of yourself!” he chastised aloud. _Land’s sakes, Hopper, you’re too old to fancy yourself falling for a pretty face. She is_ not _your wife._ _Not in that way. Not for long._

He’d have to be stronger. He’d have to be far more careful.

She deserved better.

Then, the door gave way behind him, and he stumbled backwards before he found his footing.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he could make out August’s small form, holding out his glasses. “Here, Pa—Miss Ruby said to give you these.”

“Th-thanks, Son,” Archie said, grabbing them from the boy and placing them on his face, the world suddenly becoming clear.

“Is dinner going to be soon? Miss Ruby just went into the bedroom but she didn’t say what she was doing.”

Archie tried to control his breathing as he looked down at his son, whose brow was furrowed in confusion. Archie gave a small smile and ruffled his son’s newly-cropped locks. “I’m sure we’ll eat very soon, but I, uh—I’ve got to go get some firewood for us first.”

“But Pa, there’s wood piled high out—”

“I’ll just be a few minutes!” Archie explained in a huff. “Just tell Miss Ruby for me, okay?”

“Okay, Pa.”

With that, Archie bid August to close the door to stop the cold from getting in before he turned swiftly and marched off towards the stump with the axe.

 

* * *

 

Ruby rushed to the safety of the bedroom after quickly instructing August to return the spectacles to his father. Archie wouldn’t be able to see a thing outside without them, she was sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She panted heavily, resting against the closed door, grateful for the support.

What had just happened?!

An innocent act, a simple haircut, had stirred something inside her.

She’d noticed with amusement the affect she had on him—not a surprise, really—but she wasn’t prepared for the affect he’d have on _her._

She’d pushed too far, she knew. She couldn’t help it. She saw how he clutched the seat of the chair. But then, she was so close to him, and she could smell him—his earthy scent, the musk of him—and before she knew it, she was wondering what that same grip would feel like digging into her thighs, what that tongue, which licked his lips in desperation, would feel like exploring her mouth.

She was just lonely. And perhaps feeling strange things during her pregnancy. Wasn’t that to be expected?

In truth, she missed Peter—missed him lying next to her, the warmth of him, the feeling of him wrapped around her—and she was just reaching desperately for an alternative.

Still, her heart thumped in her chest, and her cheeks were flushed at being so close to Archie. She realized she loved the feeling of running her fingers through his hair, and for a moment, when their eyes met, she was lost in his clear blue gaze, usually hidden behind his spectacles, that she was sure could see straight through her.

And then, he bolted. She had to admire that, and secretly, she was glad he had. She wasn’t entirely sure how far she would have pushed, otherwise.

She dropped her gaze down to her hands, splaying her fingers out to see the dim light catch on the rings she wore on her fourth finger. Such bizarre companions. A sob caught in her throat, as if she’d come dangerously close to an act of betrayal.

For the first time, she truly realized she would never have that again. She’d never have the intimacy of a husband, of physical love, and with that knowledge grew an ache in her stomach, like ice sitting in the very centre of her.

She straightened against the door, taking a deep breath and clasping her hands behind her. This was just her body running amok—her grief drudging up foolish emotions that she’d just have to master, along with the unstable emotions of pregnancy. Neither made very benevolent allies.

With a sigh, she set her jaw and opened the door, determined to continue like normal, starting with a dinner that had become embarrassingly delayed. 


	17. The Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie delight in giving August the perfect Christmas—which includes a surprise or two for themselves.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—life on the homestead did not afford Ruby and Archie the luxury of space, and so, save for an awkward meal with flushed cheeks—and puzzled looks from August—life quickly returned to normal. The incident was soon forgotten, or at least never mentioned, and their focus turned towards the many tasks still waiting to be accomplished in the few short days before Christmas.

Before she knew it, Ruby had less than twenty-four hours left to prepare. Though she had never been so busy, with last-minute preparations piled on top of everyday chores that still needed her attention, Ruby buzzed with excitement. Even the air felt charged with the fresh crispness of winter and the landscape covered with a blanket of white as far as the eye could see. It was easy to forget how cold it was when the sun shone bright, and Ruby had to shield her eyes when she waved off father and son on their journey to bring back the most beautiful Christmas tree they could find. She would have loved to join them, truth be told, but her extra weight was hindrance enough, and there was plenty that needed to be done at home.

Archie had the turkey that he’d bought the week before killed and prepared and hanging chilled, ready to be stuffed the next day. The baking was already tucked away in tins, so all that was left was the vegetables. She spent a good part of the day scrubbing and peeling potatoes and carrots, and soaking the beans to be flavoured with cured ham. The bread was rising, almost ready to be baked, and the pickles were lined up in their jars, waiting to be opened. She and August had even strung together the popcorn, with more kernels surviving as they passed through a nine-year-old’s hands than she had expected.

As she stood over the sink, she noticed a few flurries begin to fall on the other side of the glass panes of the window. The sun edged closer to the horizon and she prayed that Archie and August wouldn’t be long in returning. She could see the eastern sky growing unusually dark as she looked out the front window, constantly checking to see if they were returning over the hill.

She knew they’d be cold and hungry, so she put some cider on the stove to heat up, along with a stick of cinnamon that Archie had bought on his latest trip to town. It was mostly for the Christmas baking, but they could spare some for a Christmas Eve treat.

The bread was in the oven, filling the home with the warm scent of baking that reminded Ruby of home when she spotted Cleo trudging towards the house with Pongo prancing beside her. Relief washed over Ruby, as well as a thrill that shot through her to see the great tree that the Clydesdale dragged behind her.

She wrapped her shawl tightly around her and grabbed the spare carrot she’d set aside before opening the door to greet them. Ruby grinned to see August reclining on the tree as if he was a Roman Emperor in all his glory.

“I take it you had a successful outing?” Ruby said with a grin as she rubbed Cleo’s velvety nose and offered her her hard-earned Christmas treat, taking a moment to pet the dog’s head who eagerly clamoured for her attention as well.

Archie grinned back, though Ruby could only see his eyes with his laugh lines crinkled in delight, his mouth hidden behind his scarf wrapped tightly around him. “Yes, ma’am!” he affirmed as he jumped down from his perch.

August scrambled off his bed of greenery and rushed over to Ruby. “We spent _hours_ scouting out the biggest, most best tree we could find!” he exclaimed, his eyes bright and his arms stretched wide. “I found a tree that must have been a hundred feet tall, but Pa said we couldn’t take that one.” The boy threw his father a frown as Archie untied the tree from Cleo’s saddle.

“It wasn’t a hundred,” Archie corrected. “But it was definitely too big for the cabin… unless you’d like to sleep out in the lean-to tonight,” he added with a wink, and Ruby smirked.

Ruby glanced around the horse to try to see the tree as she continued to stroke Cleo’s head, her own breath clouding before her. “I don’t know if we’ll even get that in the house!” she teased, looking at Archie as if to question his judgment.

He simply shrugged with a grin. “You said you wanted the best,” he reminded her.

August and Archie turned their attention to settling Cleo down in the barn—but not before Archie insisted that Ruby return inside. She agreed, rubbing her arms in the cold, but she threw one last glance to the tree lying on the ground in front of the house. Her eyes lit up as she imagined it standing upright, covered in paper garlands and popcorn strings and ornaments.

Soon, Ruby was holding the door open for the boys as they brought in the mass of green, which almost didn’t fit through the door. Ruby realized she may not have left enough room for the tree, but she wasn’t too concerned about having it cover half of the sewing machine. She wouldn’t be sewing much in the next few days, anyway.

It was all Archie and Ruby could do to convince August to sit down to supper before they decorated the tree, and Ruby felt like she was convincing herself as much as the nine-year-old on the virtue of patience as excitement bubbled in her chest. Everything was falling into place for the perfect Christmas, and her heart felt light when she imagined the Nolans coming over the next day, everyone sitting around the table to her first proper feast. She had to stop herself from glancing over at the tree—already glowing in the light from the fire—and once or twice she caught Archie’s eye. The warmth in his smile only added to the coziness, and she smiled back before quickly glancing to August and nodding along as he told her all about their search out in the snow earlier that day.

Supper was over remarkably fast, but it was hard to care about salted pork and bread and beans when there were more important things to be done. Archie strung the garlands around the highest part of the tree, including the top that had to bend to fit against the ceiling. Ruby laughed as he struggled to reach the back branches smushed up against the wall, filling every corner with its breadth. And yet, it seemed just the perfect size to Ruby.

Her belly made it awkward to reach around the tree, but she helped as much as she could around the lower branches. Then, Archie brought out a box from behind his curtain, and he opened it to reveal a few hand-made ornaments. There were snowflakes cut out of paper, and Ruby assumed those were made by August. Her heart swelled to think that Archie had saved them so carefully year after year, and she held her breath as August handed one to her to place on the tree. There was something special about joining in their traditions, and she blinked back a tear as she chose the perfect branch on which to hang the snowflake.

Underneath the paper decorations were ornaments carved out of wood, and even in the shifting light from the fire, Ruby could see their beauty. There were little animals, including sheep and cows and donkeys, all carved out in such detail. One figure was a shepherd with his thin staff, and another, a wise old man with a beard and a turban wrapped around his head. Ruby’s favourite, though, was the mother kneeling, a young baby in her arms, and Ruby could swear she saw the mother beaming in the face of wood, her eyes fixed only on her child.

Ruby rubbed her stomach as she hung the figure on a middle branch, front and centre. She felt a light pressure on her back and looked around to see Archie, his hand resting on her spine.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked quietly. “Would you like to sit down?”

Ruby nodded and let him lead her to the rocking chair. She was more tired than she wanted to admit, and she enjoyed the excuse to lazily take in their handiwork.

“I told you it was the perfect tree,” August declared, his hands on his hips as he looked it up and down.

Ruby laughed, her hand resting on her stomach, the heat from the fire warming up her side. “You picked a good one,” she assured August.

Archie poured them all some more cider, and they enjoyed the quietness of the evening for a few moments. Still, Ruby couldn’t keep her mind still for long, and—by the look of the glimmer in his eye—neither could August. Archie gave in to his pleas for “five more minutes” but soon, the boy was helpless to the yawns that overtook him, and Ruby had to stifle a yawn or two of her own as Archie oversaw August’s night-time routine.

Before he crawled into bed, August hung his new stocking on the post of his bed. Ruby thought it might take awhile for him to fall asleep, but he was so tired after his day out with his Pa—and all the excitement of decorating the tree—that he was soon out cold. Ruby grinned as she shared a look with Archie, and they quickly snatched the stocking and brought it to the main room to fill with his treats.

The food was lined up in the cupboards and pantry ready for the next day, and Archie brought the turkey in from the lean-to where it had been hung. Ruby set it in a pan in the kitchen, ready to be prepared the next morning.

They worked quickly in these rare moments of quiet to pile August’s presents under the tree. Ruby made a beeline for the back of one cupboard, hidden behind the laundry soap where she knew August wouldn’t bother to snoop, to retrieve the scarf she’d made for him with matching mittens, now neatly wrapped in paper and tied with a ribbon. She also had a couple of bundles of shirts and socks, though she knew they would not be quite as exciting for the boy. Archie had some new shoes for him, as well, but the thing she was most excited for was the ark which she helped Archie set up on the kitchen table. Ruby couldn’t keep the grin off of her face, imagining August opening the bedroom door tomorrow morning.

Another yawn overtook her, and Ruby covered her mouth with her hand.

“I can finish up here,” Archie assured her.

She was about to protest, but she was beginning to feel so heavy, and she couldn’t actually think of anything more that could be done before the morning. “Okay,” she agreed, looking around the room as if to convince herself that everything was finished. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With the presents in place and the food prepared, Ruby was grateful to change into her nightclothes and climb under the inviting covers of her bed, with sleep claiming her before she had time to think of anything more.

 

* * *

 

Ruby awoke at her usual morning hour when the world was still dark, and for a moment it felt like an ordinary morning until her heart leapt in realization.

_Christmas!_

A pang of grief hit her, though it was surprisingly more like a small prick, to think that this should have been her and Peter’s first Christmas together in their new home. For a moment, she let herself imagine what that day might have looked like, waking up beside her husband, sparks of excitement between them and full with the knowledge that they would soon be celebrating the holidays as a family of three.

She threw off her blankets, resisting the urge to shake August awake, and instead she rushed to put on her woolen stockings and wrap her shawl around her. She carefully made her way to the door and edged it open to minimize any creaks.

The hearth was already lit, and Ruby smiled at the evidence that Archie had risen even earlier, her heart warm at his considerate gesture. With a full day ahead, he was wise to get a head start on chores, which had little regard for holidays.

Or, Ruby thought with a grin as she clasped her hands together and pressed her fingers to her lips, Archie was actually as eager as a schoolboy himself for the day to start.

She looked around the room, enjoying the moment of sacred quiet as the world stood still. She could already see in her mind’s eye the table covered with a Christmas feast, surrounded by their dear friends, with paper scattered about the floorboards, long discarded from presents eagerly unveiled at the crack of dawn. For a brief moment, she soaked in the delicious stillness, with only the sound of the wind outside.

Pulling herself from her daydreams, Ruby rushed to get the stove lit and the water boiling. She shivered and hugged her shawl around her, eager for the house to warm up as she ground the coffee beans and scooped them into the pot. The heavy aroma washed over her, and her heart leapt in anticipation of the feast that lay ahead, knowing the house would soon be filled with the smells of Christmas.

Ruby heard the door swing open and felt the cool air rush in. She turned with a grin to greet Archie, but her face instantly fell as she saw the thick snow swirling around him in the brief moment before he quickly shut the door, Pongo at his side.

“Are you okay?” she asked, rushing towards him, knowing how dangerous the short journey between the barn and the house could be in such weather.

“Oh, I’m fine,” he assured her, taking off his hat and stamping his feet of the snow that clung to his boots. “But…”

Ruby leaned down as much as she could to pet the dog before she stood up and met Archie’s gaze, and her heart sank.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, clasping his hat in his hands, and Ruby noticed the snow now melted to droplets on his glasses as he squinted through them.

Ruby froze, her arms crossed as if to brace against the chill from outside and the disappointment that threatened to destroy the day she’d worked so hard for. She could see how he searched her face, watching for her reaction. Her chin wobbled slightly and she could feel the prick of tears in her eyes and the sting building in her nose.

 _No. I will_ not _let this be taken from me too!_

She set her jaw and swallowed the lump in her throat before throwing Archie a determined smile. “I guess you and I and August have a lot of food to eat today, huh?” she said, and she could see his shoulders relax, though not before his eyes widened in surprise.

She quickly turned around to check on the coffee, now boiling away on the stovetop, and she could hear Archie’s rustled movements as he shrugged off his winter layers.

“I-it’s been snowing all night, from what I reckon,” Archie explained as he hung up his coat and hat. “And I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon.”

“I’m just glad no one’s caught out in it,” Ruby said, pouring them a mug each. “Can you imagine if the Nolans were stuck in this storm? Or you and August yesterday?” Ruby shuddered at the thought, the blood in her veins turning to ice for a moment.

Archie came up beside her, grabbing the cream from one cupboard and the sugar from another.

“No, we’re all safe and warm, and that’s all that matters,” she assured him. And, she realized, she meant every word.

He put his hand on her arm, wordless, and gave a squeeze. Ruby started at the warmth that washed over her in the simple gesture.

As they sat down to the table with their drinks, Ruby realized that the Nolans were without any food for Christmas, but Archie reassured her that Mary Margaret knew this country better than to be caught unprepared. Ruby relaxed slightly as she took a sip of her drink until she realized she was usually not in such a state of undress around Archie. In her excitement, she had left her nightdress on and her hair undone, the same way she usually did on Christmas, a morning of leisure. She tugged at her shawl and tucked her hair behind her ear before she dropped her gaze to her mug.

“Are the animals all right?” she asked after she took another sip, revelling in the hot liquid that warmed her through as the fire in the hearth still worked to heat up the space.

“Yes, they’re fine,” Archie reassured her. “It’s pretty cozy in the barn, at least.”

Ruby nodded, grateful that the animals didn’t have to suffer a blizzard on Christmas day, and that their livelihood wasn’t threatened—and grateful, also, that he’d found his way back to the house without trouble.

She glanced over at Pongo, who was stretched out in front of the fireplace, and she smiled. Everyone got special treatment on Christmas.

Turning back to Archie, she continued. “I’ll only cook up what vegetables we need for the three of us, and freeze the rest,” she explained, her thoughts already racing to rearrange for their new Christmas plans. “Except for the turkey, of course—I’ll have to cook it all.”

Archie nodded in agreement. “We can just have what’s left over for a simple supper,” he added. “No use in making an extra meal and going through even more effort.”

Ruby was more than happy to agree to less work. “That sounds good.”

Even though the wind whistled sharply outside, it was hard to dampen the cheer that grew within the four sturdy walls, especially when Ruby’s gaze landed on the Christmas tree and the ark set that awaited August. She couldn’t wait for him to see all the goodies that she was sure would thrill even the most well-off boy in Boston.

They didn’t have to wait long for a shrill “It’s Christmas!” to sound from the other room, and Archie and Ruby grinned at each other before they both turned towards the bedroom door. August didn’t waste a moment as he burst through, holding up his stocking.

“Look, Pa!” he said, his face beaming until he stopped in his tracks. His smile dropped and his eyes grew wide as he took in the ark that sat on the table at his usual place. Ruby chuckled behind her mug as a grin spread across August’s features as if it might split his face in two.

“Pa!” he cried again, scrambling to his chair and dropping his stocking on the table, kneeling on the seat to better examine his new toy.

“Open it up!” Archie coaxed, and Ruby pulled her gaze from the boy to glance at him. Her heart fluttered in her chest to see how wide he was grinning at his son, watching with the delight of a child as he soaked in August’s excitement.

All the hours of planning and tedious work had paid off, to see August gush over every animal, lining them up and closing the massive boat before opening it again. The room was still darker than usual with the snow falling, but that didn’t seem to matter to August, who was already holding up the Noah figurine and talking in a deep voice before imitating every animal noise he could think of.

Archie and Ruby were happy to watch him at play while they finished their coffee, until Archie finally reminded August of his stocking, now discarded.

“Oh, yeah—I forgot!” August exclaimed, dropping the figurines on the table and snatching the large sock. He dumped it out to reveal a large orange and a shiny stick of red-and-white striped peppermint candy, with some licorice root and a new penny. Ruby couldn’t help but lick her lips at the treats, though she immediately shook her head at herself.

 _Ruby Lucas, I dare say you have the sweet tooth of a toddler!_ Ruby could still hear her grandmother chide, and she could see the sparkle in her granny’s eye.

“Now, you’ll have to save that for after Christmas dinner,” Archie instructed firmly.

August hopped off his chair and rushed to throw his arms around his father. “Thank you, Pa!”

Something tightened in Ruby’s chest, to see the small arms wrapped so snugly around Archie’s neck, and to see the drawn out embrace of a father, his eyes closed, his whole face smiling. “Merry Christmas,” Archie said.

Then, they pulled apart, and Archie held August, his hands on the boy’s arms. “Now, you’d better thank Miss Ruby as well, since she painted all of those figures. And, I think there’s something for her on the end of her bed that she forgot. Can you go get it for her, please?”

August nodded, mumbling a “thank you, Miss Ruby” as he rushed to the bedroom while embarrassment and surprise and curiosity all washed over Ruby in equal measure.

“Archie!” she protested as August reappeared with a stocking in hand, and she reached out to take it from him. “What is this?”

The sock was large and matched August’s, and Ruby thought that it must belong to Archie. She stuck her hand in and pulled out a large, round orange to match August’s. She couldn’t deny, it made her mouth water, and she threw Archie a teasing frown before she reached her hand in again, this time, pulling out a peppermint stick.

“Now we both have treats, Miss Ruby,” August declared, whirling his candy stick in his fingers and resting it on his lips before a stern look from his father made him swiftly return it to the table.

Ruby laughed, delight bubbling in her chest. “Yes, we do,” she agreed. She turned to Archie and smiled. “Thank you so much, but you didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s nothing, honestly,” Archie replied as he stood from his chair and turned to his son. “But, I’m afraid we’re going to have to clear the table so we can have some breakfast, okay?”

August groaned but he followed his father’s instructions and piled the animals back in the ark and shoved his treats back in his sock.

Ruby was grateful to have a few moments to herself as she turned to the stove while father and son moved his new toy to his bed. Archie must have put the stocking on her bed post after she went to sleep, and goodness knows she would have been dead asleep as soon as she was in bed. She must have missed it in the morning, rushing to get ready in the dark. It was more than she imagined to have, out here in the middle of nowhere, a fancy treat from town, but she was starting to learn that such thoughtfulness was just how he was. She only wished she’d thought to do something for him.

Oh, well, there was nothing to be done now, and she little time to worry about it when she had two hungry boys eager for a hot pancake breakfast—plus herself, and her little one, whom she was sure was hungrier than ever as her stomach grumbled and she felt the flutters and kicks of activity. _He’s going to be as excited about Christmas as his pa was_ , Ruby thought to herself as she flipped the pancakes in the hot frying pan, the batter turning golden and the delicious aroma filling the room.

She took care to shape August’s pancake into a little man, ladling the batter to form a little body with a head and two arms and two legs. She grimaced as the first one looked a little lopsided, and so she tried again with more success.

 _Well, that one can be Archie’s_ , she thought with a chuckle as she slid it carefully from the pan to the plate. She didn’t miss Archie’s raised brows at the offering, but August seemed excited as he exclaimed, “Look, Pa! I’ve got a pancake man.” Ruby even brought out the butter and the strawberry preserves that she knew were Archie’s and August’s favourite.

Ruby also knew better than to try to make August eat at a decent pace. Instead, the pancakes were gone in minutes, and Ruby was soon cleaning up after a rushed—but very much enjoyed—Christmas breakfast.

After the dishes were done, she got dressed as quickly as she could before they moved on to the rest of the presents under the tree. There wasn’t much, but there were the packages for August, and one or two for Archie, as well—some new shirts and socks and the like. They weren’t as exciting as candy or an elaborate animal ark, but August seemed genuinely appreciative. Ruby was glad that she had something for Archie to open as well, and her heart thumped a little in her chest when he flashed her a surprised smile and thanked her for the new shirts and socks, holding them up against him.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, echoing his words from before.

She glanced to the other packages under the tree, picturing the scarf she’d knit for August and the matching one for his father. She was nervous, somehow, as if it didn’t seem quite right for Archie, but she pushed the thought aside when August rushed into the bedroom and came back with a package in his hands.

He held out the parcel, wrapped with crinkled brown paper and tied up in string with a few too many knots. “Here you are, Miss Ruby,” he said as she took it from him. “I hope you like it. I made it myself,” he said proudly.

“Thank you, August,” Ruby said, turning the package over with care, her curiosity piqued. She gingerly tore the paper and tried to slip the string over the contents—nodding her thanks to Archie when he handed her her sewing scissors—before finally cutting the gift free.

“Oh, August,” Ruby breathed, pulling out two carved wooden wolf figurines, one smaller than the other.

She ran her hands over the wood details, slightly rough but still impressive, especially for a nine-year-old. The animals both sat on their haunches, heads thrown back and Ruby could almost hear their howls to the unseen moon.

“They’re to protect your dreams,” he explained. “So you won’t have any more nightmares and you and the baby can get a good sleep.”

A lump rose in Ruby’s throat and tears pricked her eyes as she met August’s gaze, completely caught off-guard.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

Ruby swallowed before flashing him a grin. “Oh, Sweetheart, they’re beautiful!” she gushed. “I’ll keep them by my bed, always.” She placed them on the table before reaching out for August and wrapping him in a tight hug. “Thank you so much,” she said, a wobble in her voice, before she pressed a kiss to his ear.

His hands were pinned to his sides, but he didn’t wriggle away, either. Ruby held the hug and blinked back a few tears before she pulled away and smiled at August. Beneath his energy and mischief, he had a big heart—and clearly he had a creative flair like his father.

August wasted no time and bolted back to the bedroom before appearing with another package—rectangular and flat, this time. Ruby chuckled to note that he hadn’t brought both presents out together. She watched with the delight of one who knew a secret about to be revealed as Archie took the gift from his son, his eyes wide and questioning but bright and cheerful, his laugh lines pronounced. His movements were slow and meticulous and Ruby wondered how he had the patience not to just rip open his parcels.

With a snip to one of the strings, Archie finally pulled back the paper to reveal August’s storybook. Ruby held her breath, beaming at Archie’s reaction of awe and pleasure.

“August, this is amazing!” he praised, turning the pages. “Did you make this yourself?”

August grinned and rocked on his tiptoes, leaning over the book that rested on his father’s lap. “I did, except Miss Ruby helped a little.”

Ruby shook her head. “August did all the hard work,” she insisted when Archie threw her a look.

“’The Best Stories, According to August Geppetto Hopper,’” Archie read aloud. “And I can’t wait to read them, Son. Thank you.”

More hugs were shared, and then, Archie handed Ruby a smaller package. She tried to steady her breathing as she removed the paper, her mind racing to think what it might be.

Under the wrapping was a wooden box—simple, but varnished so it shone—and she slowly lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful enamel comb and mirror set. Her breath hitched in her throat as she let her gaze linger over the contents, daring only to trace with the lightest touch the beautiful flowers painted along the back of the mirror and the edge of the comb.

Amidst the flowers, letters caught her eye in a script that she realized was a monogram.

R. L. S. H.

_Smith._

Tears pricked her eyes and her chest tightened as she reverently took the mirror out of its velvet cushion, her vision blurring as she studied the letters. The objects were beautiful, but it was more than that. He could have easily just called her “Mrs. Hopper,” but instead, he gave her back her name. A part of her would always belong to Peter, and Archie knew that. Not only did he know, he respected that—and he wanted to celebrate that part of her.

She took a deep breath to collected herself and barely caught Archie’s eye before he turned to August, who was quickly on to his last gift. She turned at the sound of more paper being ripped and grinned with wet eyes as he held up his scarf.

“And look, it’s got your initials,” she pointed out, holding up the end to show off the gold lettering after he’d already wrapped it around his neck.

With a jolt, Ruby remembered the gift she’d made for Archie, and she snatched it up before he could see it and stuffed it behind the cushion of her chair. She couldn’t give it to him now, not after his generosity. It wasn’t enough—just not _right_ , somehow.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice as he admired August’s scarf. With the gifts finally finished, Archie and August tidied up while Ruby got to work in the kitchen—though, not before she snuck the miscalculated present into her room and stuffed it at the back of a drawer.

First, she followed the recipe she’d found down to the very last instruction on how to prepare the turkey. She took a deep breath, having already studied the instructions over the past week. Still, it was entirely different reading about something and doing it oneself, and Ruby prayed she’d be able to pull off a delicious dinner.

Soon, the turkey was seasoned and stuffed and roasting in the oven—with Archie’s help lifting it in. Next, she turned her attention to preparing the vegetables, which started with a pot of fresh, clean snow from just outside so she could have boiling water.

While she was busy with the food, Archie and August dressed to go check on the animals, Archie having deemed the snowfall light enough. Ruby had to laugh to see August bundled up beyond recognition, only his eyes visible, framed by his hat and hood and scarf, and proudly wearing his new boots. She gave him some extra carrots to give the animals “as a Christmas treat” before waving them off on their short journey. The snow was up past Archie’s knees, so she knew it might take them awhile as they trudged through the white barrier, with Pongo hopping beside them. Ruby glanced out the window to see August on his father’s back, one arm hugging Archie’s chest, the other dangling with his grip filled with carrots. They left a funny trail in the snow, and Ruby smiled at the sight.

It didn’t take long for Ruby to realize she’d needed more time than she thought, and for a moment she was grateful that she was only cooking for the three of them instead of the whole Nolan family as well. She was also glad that she’d had all the baking done in advance, since the vegetables and the turkey required enough of her attention.

Panic began to rise when Archie and August returned and she’d reread the instructions for the turkey. With a glance at the clock, she realized she hadn’t left enough time for the turkey to cook, since she’d originally been planning on supper instead of having the feast mid-day.

“It’s fine,” Archie assured her with his warm smile that crinkled his eyes and somehow calmed her and made her pulse beat a little faster at the same time.

And it was—nobody complained about having a small lunch of bread and jam with some Christmas cookies—least of all August. He tried to convince his father that he was so hungry that he needed to eat his candy, as well, but Archie insisted that he could only have his orange if he wanted. With a huff, August stuffed his candy in his stocking and began to peel the orange, sending the bright scent wafting through the room so that Ruby couldn’t resist eating her fruit, as well.

“I’m okay,” Archie said when Ruby insisted on sharing some with him. “Besides, the Vitamin C will be good for the baby.”

Ruby smiled, her mouth full with a sweet, tangy wedge, and she savoured the juicy treat, enjoying each piece slowly without guilt… mostly. She instructed August to save the peel, as well, with the plans to candy it later.

Though delayed far more than she wished, Christmas dinner was eventually ready to be served, and all three of them beheld the spread with wide eyes and rumbling bellies. Still, the moment of pause while Archie asked for God’s blessing over the feast calmed Ruby. He had a way with words, and it warmed her through the way he thanked God for her and the food that He had provided through her. A couple of months ago, it had seemed strange, especially since it was obvious that this man worked hard for these provisions, but it now seemed natural to hear him thank this Unseen Being, and Ruby couldn’t deny she felt particularly blessed, surrounded by so much.

And then, it was gone—the food on their plates disappeared in what seemed to Ruby the blink of an eye. She couldn’t complain, however, with the warm fullness in her belly, and she sat back in her chair and rested her hand on her stomach, enjoying an indulgent moment of rest before she’d have to clean everything up. She was proud, too, of how it all turned out—perfectly delicious, if she did say so herself, and the satisfied “hmms” from Archie and August confirmed her suspicions.

Archie and August helped in the washing up, and soon the clinking and clanking of dishes melted to the quietness of a cozy evening with hot cider and gingerbread men treats. The dim light of the evening reminded Ruby of the passing hours, and the excitement of the day began to weigh on her tired limbs.

Now all seated by the fire, with Pongo lying down across the rag-rug, Archie reached for his Bible and turned to a particular spot with the ease of one who had flipped to that chapter countless times. Normally, Ruby would be busy with her sewing or knitting projects, but tonight, she was happy to relax as she let his soothing voice wash over her while he read.

With August on his lap, Archie told the story of Mary and Joseph and the birth of baby Jesus. Ruby had heard the story before, but she found she didn’t remember the details that Archie read from his great leather-bound book. She found herself hanging on to every word of the story about the young woman who discovered she was going to have a baby—God’s own Son!—and had to deliver the child in a barn. She was engrossed to hear how God would choose to send Jesus into such a humble family, and to have the shepherds be the first to hear the good news.

It made her imagine her own time of delivery as she absentmindedly rubbed her large belly, but it was more than that. There was a joy in the words, in Archie’s voice, and she found she was swept away with the knowledge that Christmas was about God’s _love_.

At one point, Archie met her gaze, and Ruby realized she was sitting on the edge of her chair, leaning forward as he read about the wise men deciding on a different route to protect the new baby from King Herod. He smiled softly at her before returning his gaze to the page, and Ruby sat back in her chair, her hands clasped around her stomach.

She was sorry for the story to end, and she mulled the words over in her mind, soaking them in as if to store them in the secret place in her heart. She’d have to read it over again, to remember every detail.

Her heart lifted when Archie then brought out his violin, and she clapped along with August as Archie made the bow dance along the strings, filling the whole room with gaiety. Though there wasn’t much space, Archie and August hopped and danced in a circle, and Ruby laughed, almost wishing to join in—though her heavy limbs made her happy to remain a spectator as she soaked in the child’s energy. She couldn’t help but sing along with them, though, as they sang with the notes of the fiddle.

      _Get out the way ol’ Dan Tucker!  
_ _You’re too late to get your supper.  
_ _Supper’s over an’ breakfast cookin’.  
_ _Ol’ Dan Tucker just stand here lookin’._

After a couple more exuberant songs, even August began to fade, and the last festivities of Christmas relaxed to quieter music that Archie masterfully coaxed from the instrument. The notes swirled around Ruby and embraced her in warmth along with the fire as if to add the finishing touches to the happy day.

As Archie drew out the final notes, he nodded to August, who had fallen asleep beside Ruby, his chair pulled up to hers and his head resting on a cushion as she draped her arm around her shoulders. Archie slowly put his fiddle back in its case and picked the boy up, his head now resting on his father’s shoulder. Ruby opened the bedroom door for them and followed Archie to the bed as he lay August down. Together, they carefully changed him into his nightshirt, guiding his arms through the fabric, and tucked him in under the covers before both pressing a good-night kiss to his forehead.

As they tiptoed out as quietly as they could, Ruby’s heart felt full, realizing the care she felt for this family they’d created. This was never where she’d expected to be, and yet, this place had already become familiar, and she found she was happy to have her role in the Hopper household.

Archie shut the bedroom door behind them while Ruby pulled out the tin of gingerbread cookies from the cupboard. Archie put another log on the fire, which filled the room with more light. He grinned as she pushed the open tin towards him, and he eagerly grabbed a cookie as he took his seat, Ruby already eating hers as she reclined.

They ate in silence, both tired but pleased with the day, exchanging shy smiles.

Then, Archie spoke. “I am sorry that the Nolans couldn’t come over today. I know how much you had planned.”

Ruby shook her head and swallowed. “Please, don’t mention it—we had such a lovely day. Besides, I might have been spared a larger catastrophe,” she added with a chuckle, remembering their delayed supper and wondering if there wasn’t something else she would have forgotten with more company.

“You would have been great,” he assured her. “I’m sure we can see the Nolans for the New Year, but at any rate—your cooking was delicious.”

Ruby could tell he meant it, and she felt a flush in her cheeks at his praise.

“And,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “I for one am glad I don’t have to share this baking with our neighbours.”

Ruby laughed before cupping her mouth with her hand with a quick glance to the bedroom door, mindful of the sleeping boy. Then, she nodded, reaching for another cookie as a well-deserved reward.

Though Ruby regretted bringing an end to the day, her heavy eyelids convinced her that it was time for bed. She stood up and excused herself, her chair scraping the floor along with Archie’s as he stood up with her.

Standing at the bedroom door, she threw a glance to the little clock on the mantel piece, its hands both pointing slightly to the left of midnight.

She looked back to Archie, her hand on the doorknob. “Merry Christmas,” she bade in a final “good night”.

His features brightened in a way that made warmth wash over her. “Merry Christmas,” he repeated.

 

* * *

 

Archie rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sigh as Ruby closed the door behind her. He tried to ignore the way his pulse beat in his veins when she smiled at him, the way she seemed to relax more and more in his company.

He played the day over in mind as he poked at the last smouldering log in the fireplace, crumbling it to embers. His heart was light after the special day, and he was sorry to see it end—as if, for twenty-four hours, they could forget the tragedy that had brought the three of them together.

As he splashed some water on his face at the basin, he couldn’t help but grin as he remembered August’s joy at opening his presents. And then, he froze, the towel on his face as he remembered the way he felt a jolt in his chest to see Ruby’s delight as she watched August. He knew the care with which she had helped paint the animal set for his son, and Archie was touched by the other goodies she’d made for him. There was something motherly about the looks she gave August, the small gestures of affection, the way she gently lifted him up while Archie slipped his shirt over his head.

Archie shook his head at himself as he rushed to his cot, placing his glasses on the window sill before quickly changing into his nightclothes. He jumped under the covers to escape the chill in the air, bone tired, but he couldn’t stop his mind from racing.

He’d been heartbroken himself to see the snow piled high and flying around thick that morning, knowing that the one thing she’d asked of him was denied her. He’d expected hurt or anger when she’d found out the news, but instead, she simply brushed it off as a mere annoyance, ready to move cheerfully on with the day. He could see the brief flicker in her eyes, and yet, she didn’t let it overwhelm her for a second.

The determination of this woman astounded him. Even when grief was barely beneath the surface, she pushed forward, sometimes with reckless force. And over the last few weeks, he’d seen a shift in her—like the sun shining on new-fallen snow, a brightness that grew in her as she planned for Christmas. By all accounts, it could have been a sordid reminder of all she’d lost, but instead, she’d found a new purpose that filled her with a glimpse of life he hadn’t seen before. More than a determination to work through the pain, it was a hope that there was a future ahead, growing with the new life inside of her.

And Archie found it irresistible. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he stared up at the wooden boards of the ceiling, praying for the relief of sleep. He couldn’t keep her brilliant smile from his mind, the surprise of seeing her in her nightdress with her hair loose over her shoulders and down her back, or forget the way his pulse quickened as she brushed against him throughout the day. It seemed so natural to have her with him, beside him, and he felt sick when he remembered that she was leaving in a few short months.

Then it hit him, the feelings that had been building since she’d arrived. A trickle, quickly gathering like a stream gathered in a pool, bubbling, a pressure building until it gushed in such force, crashing over him so he was sure he would drown.

Archibald Hopper could no longer ignore the fact that he was, indeed, very much in love with his wife.


	18. A New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie is grateful for the distraction when he and August and Ruby are invited to the Nolans' to celebrate the new year.

Archie should have known the world would take no notice of his revelation, but he held his breath as he began his chores the next morning. The animals certainly didn’t care how he felt, so long as they were fed and watered, and Pongo only pounced through the snow and barked in his normal, cheerful way.

And yet, how could they all be so ignorant to the fact that the very ground had shifted beneath his feet? That he had, knowing with every shovel, dug himself into this hole into which he would only sink deeper, painfully slowly, with no hope of relief and no one to blame but himself?

Archie nodded to August as the boy rushed from the house to the chicken coop to collect the eggs—a couple of days’ worth, since nothing was collected on Christmas—and back again. Archie shut the barn door closed, making sure to latch it snugly before he made his way back to the house, his breath clouding before him in the winter sun.

His heart stopped in his throat as he entered, August not far behind. He met Ruby’s smiling gaze and barely had enough thought to tip his hat to her. Did she know? He could feel a flush in his cheeks, and, though logic told him otherwise, he was certain that his mess of thoughts were plain as day, spilling out across the floorboards.

If she noticed anything different about him, she was kind enough not to say anything, and soon Archie started to relax. The afterglow of Christmas remained for the next few days, with every day holding slightly less cheer than the one before as the holidays began to feel farther away. Still, there was the new year to celebrate, and everyone was happy to see David Nolan ride up on horseback one day to invite them over for a small lunch on New Year’s Day.

Soon, they were packing up to head over to their neighbours’, and Ruby was fussing over the three baskets she’d managed to fill.

“I feel bad that Mary Margaret is playing host when we have yet to have them over,” Ruby said, re-tucking the cloths around the jars and tins she packed snugly into the baskets.

“I’m sure the chicken and buns and pickles and tarts are more than enough,” Archie assured her with a chuckle, coming up behind her. He almost placed his hand on her shoulder but thought better of it, letting his hand drop awkwardly beside him instead. She was too busy to notice anything, thank goodness, as she rushed to August to wrap his scarf around his neck more tightly, which earned her a groan from the nine-year-old. Archie, meanwhile, quickly packed the baskets into a crate and carried it to the sled waiting outside.

After far longer than seemed necessary, they were ready to go, with the food tucked behind them and themselves wrapped up in their coats and scarves and blankets—the latter for Ruby and her stomach that was by now far too large for her coat. After such a process, Archie couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be to travel with a baby as well, but he couldn’t deny the thought made him grin.

Truth be told, Archie was just as glad for the distraction as he was to see his friends again, and it was clear that everyone was restless after being cooped inside for the last week. After hugs and greetings had been exchanged, Cleo had been settled in the barn, and the food had been safely set inside, everyone wrapped themselves up and ventured outside to enjoy the beautiful winter day. Even Mary Margaret joined in the fun with baby Leo, who was scarcely more than a bundle of knitted wool in his mother’s arms.

August and Emma scampered along together to the swing hanging from the tree, their shrieks and giggles the evidence of their freedom, if only for a little while. Ruby grinned as she talked with Mary Margaret and took Leo in her arms, and Archie walked with David to the north side of the property to inspect some tracks in the snow.

Archie knelt down to see them better. They were clearly paw prints, but larger than that of a dog, and far more plentiful.

“Wolves,” Archie said, standing up to join David.

“Umhmm,” David agreed. “Haven’t seen the animals themselves, but we’ve heard them the last couple of nights, and then these.” He nodded to the marred snow.

“It’s unusual for them to come so close. Do you have any traps?”

“Yeah, but I usually only use them out in the fields. I don’t like them so close to the house.”

“Sounds wise.”

“Have you had any trouble?”

Archie shook his head. “No, but I’ll keep a look out.” The wild animals didn’t usually pose much trouble, but if they’d had difficulty finding food so far in the season, they could be edging closer to the homesteads in search of an easy kill. It didn’t mean much, but it did set Archie on edge. “Thanks for the warning.”

They turned to walk towards the house, both eager to move on to more pleasant subjects. David asked, “So, how was your first Christmas with the missus?”

Archie thought he caught a twinkle in his friend’s eye and gave him a puzzled look. “It was nice,” he assured him, his heart beating a bit faster as he refused to take the bait. “But we missed you and Mary Margaret. Ruby was so disappointed that she couldn’t have you all over.” Archie chuckled. “You should have seen all the food she cooked.”

David smiled. “Yeah, we were disappointed, too. Not that I don’t enjoy my wife’s cooking, but cold ham and beans and buns aren’t my idea of a great Christmas dinner.”

“I have to admit, I probably got the better end of that deal.”

Before Archie could say more, a pile of snow fell with a _thwat_ at their feet. They stopped in place and looked around, quickly spotting the source of the rogue snowball with the mittens and hats and a pair of pigtails poking out from the trunk of a tree. That, and the clear sound of giggling, which instantly gave the snowy assassins away.

Archie and David shared looks before bending down to scoop a handful of snow each. Packing it into balls, they slowly tread in opposite directions towards either side of the tree. With a nod to one another, they threw their ammo and hit their targets lightly, sending squeals of delight into the air as the children ran for cover. They hid behind the corner of the house while David and Archie reconvened, bending down to grab handfuls of snow before they circled around the house.

The children made for easy targets with their backs to their fathers, completely unaware of the threat from behind—almost. David and Archie tossed their snowballs to land square on their backs, but August’s suspicions had him turning around to catch the snowball in the chest instead.

“Hey!” he cried, quickly grabbing a handful of snow and packing it into a ball as he chased after his pa. “No fair!”

Emma wasn’t far behind as they all jogged towards the front of the house, the children in pursuit of the men. Archie laughed as August’s snowball hit him in the arm. “Is that all you’ve got?” he teased, a grin on his lips, panting in the cold air as he jogged backwards.

Suddenly, a snowball hit Archie smack in the face, almost knocking his glasses off. He turned around, pushing his glasses up his nose, to see Ruby facing Mary Margaret with baby Leo in her arms, feigning oblivion, save for the suspicious smirk on her lips.

She betrayed herself when she glanced back at him, her eyes mischievous in recognition. He playfully narrowed his eyes at her as she turned back to her friend, earning him another surprise snowball in the face from his son.

“Gotcha!” August cried. Archie laughed and ran towards him, sending the boy racing through the deep snow, squealing as his father’s long strides closed the distance.

All-out war erupted when Mary Margaret joined in the fight, siding with her daughter’s cause against her husband. Snowballs flew threw the air in every direction, some lower, some higher, some with more force than others. Even Ruby managed to join in the fight, though she had to keep by the house to grab the snow from the drifts against the building that was within reach, forming tiny balls with one hand. Archie even threw a few handfuls of snow her way, aiming for the safety of her skirts, which coaxed a few mock gasps and empty threats from her that made his heart beat a little faster.

“I think we’re outnumbered!” David called to Archie as he hid behind a tree and narrowly ducked a snowy missile.

Archie laughed, his pulse racing as two snowballs hit his front—one on his shoulder, the other on his stomach.

“Oof!” he let out an exaggerated cry and held his stomach. Seeing his chance, August raced to his father, tackling his middle, and Archie let himself fall backwards into the soft snow. He glanced up just in time to see Ruby grinning at them as she lobbed a ball their way.

“I surrender!” he exclaimed. “Mercy!”

August was now straddling his chest as he lay flat in the snow. They both panted, the icy air stinging his nose and lungs slightly as he caught his breath, the air fogging before their faces.

“Good,” August said, narrowing his eyes and leaning close. “And don’t you forget it.”

Archie chuckled as August climbed off of him before he rolled over and got up. Ruby stood over them and swiftly offered August her congratulations.

Archie glanced over at Mary Margaret and David to see they had ended up on top of each other, Mary Margaret pressed against her husband as they shared a kiss, his arms around her. Archie quickly looked away, surprised at the bittersweet longing that washed over him along with the expected embarrassment at catching such a private moment.

He felt his cheeks flush as he turned to Ruby, who looked quite at home with Leo on her hip.

He noticed her skirt covered with snow and chuckled. “It looks like you didn’t completely escape the massacre,” he said with a nod.

Ruby grinned and shifted the baby around her stomach poking through her coat. “Leo and I couldn’t let you guys have all the fun, could we Leo?” She focused her attention on the baby, cooing at him with her face close to his, bouncing him gently. “Isn’t that right? Isn’t that right?” She lit up when he gurgled back at her with his little grin, and Archie couldn’t help but grin at the two of them.

Soon, the cold but happy party were brushing themselves off on the porch and shedding their winter layers to be hung up to dry beside the fireplace—leaving very little space for the hearth to reach the rest of the house.

Still, the oven did well to keep the place cozy, and Ruby and Mary Margaret were not sorry to spend the next while in the kitchen while the children played some games and the men visited.

It was a simple but hearty meal to which they all sat down, and the laughter and cheer warmed Archie’s heart. The winter months made such visits rare, so he cherished the fellowship when they could snatch it.

He ended up sitting in beside Ruby, and he couldn’t decide whether to deem it a pleasant twist of fate or a danger. Her smile lit up the room as she talked with their friends, and when it happened to be directed at him, his pulse quickened, or his heart began to race when their fingers brushed as they passed along food.

“How have you found the winter out here so far?” Mary Margaret asked as she cut up some cooked carrots into tiny pieces for Leo, who was having more fun mashing them with his hands than putting any in his mouth.

“It’s been good so far,” Ruby replied with a nod. “I was expecting far worse, to be honest, after the doom-and-gloom I was promised, so so far it’s been cozy more than anything.”

David chuckled. “Just wait for the next couple of months,” he warned her. “Then we’ll really see what you’re made of.”

“David,” Mary Margaret chastised from the other end of the table, though her eyes were bright. She turned to Ruby. “It’s been mild so far, but how unfortunate that the blizzard came right at Christmas! The weather always does know how to spoil our plans. Remember two years ago when we had that ice storm in the spring?”

“My dear, I think you mean three years ago.”

“David, I distinctly remember it was two years ago because it was right after Emma had found my scissors and given herself that disastrous haircut that we were trying to grow out…”

Archie nodded along, not daring to join David in agreement that it was, indeed, three years ago, when Ruby grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach.

“Do you feel that?” she all but squealed under her breath. Archie froze, at first only feeling Ruby’s dainty hands gripping his and pressing it down on the fabric of her skirt along her side. Then, he felt it—a pressure from beneath beating at his fingers.

He met her gaze and his heart lurched in his throat. Her green eyes shone as brilliantly as the new growth in spring and it was all he could do to keep his breathing steady.

“I feel it,” he replied softly before he grinned back.

For a moment longer, she held his hand in place, and then, as quickly as the intimacy had come, it was gone, and she dropped her hands while Archie followed suit.

Mary Margaret and David were still bantering about when the coldest winter in recent memory had been and took no notice of Mr. and Mrs. Hopper. Archie shook his head at himself, puzzled as to why that should cause a twinge of disappointment.

The afternoon bled into a lazy evening, which included cold “pickings” for dinner and fiddle music and dancing. Archie was wary about staying out too late and kept a watchful eye on Ruby to make sure she wasn’t tiring quickly. He needn’t have worried, however, as both his son and his wife protested leaving too soon, and he was happy to comply with their pleas for more time with their friends.

Their visit did eventually come to an end, and Archie smiled to himself as he drove them home with a sleeping boy on one shoulder and a drowsy woman on the other. For now, at least, he could enjoy these simple blessings.


	19. Snowstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby gives Archie a scare... and ends up revealing her deepest secret.

The week between Christmas and New Year’s was pleasant enough, but Ruby found the beginning of January, with its dreary insistence that the celebrations were now over, begin to weigh on her. True, the break from the extra tasks that came with Christmas was a relief, but after the visit with the Nolans, she found the days stretched out before her with such bleakness that she needed a new project to keep from thinking about it at all.

How could March still be so far away?

Then again, she was glad to be able to throw herself into preparations for the baby. Though she was sad to see Archie take the tree down after they’d carefully packed the decorations away, the use of her sewing machine was well worth the exchange.

She was also glad when Archie was able to get back to town after a few weeks of being snowed in. Perhaps she had been with them for so long already, but there was a certain thrill to his return after a day in Storybrooke.

“What did-ja bring me, Pa?” August asked, rushing over to his father when he came in the door one Saturday evening.

Ruby laughed as she followed after August, feeling a little too clumsy and slow to keep up with his abundant energy. “Woah, August, let your pa get in the door!”

Archie chuckled as he hung up his hat and coat. “Not much, I’m afraid,” he said as he turned around. “Though I do have a couple of letters for Miss Ruby.”

Ruby froze before delight shot through her. “Granny!” she cried, all but snatching them from Archie’s outstretched hand. “Thank you!”

Tears blurred her vision as she glanced down to see her grandmother’s neat cursive across the front. She glanced around the room, wondering where the best place would be to savour a taste of home.

August and Archie were busy at the kitchen table, so Ruby rushed to the bedroom and shut the door. She hugged her shawl tightly around her against the chill of the room and sat near the top of her bed closest to the window to read by the faint light still coming in.

“Oh, Granny,” Ruby breathed as she started the first letter, a lump rising in her throat as tears threatened to spill.

     _My dearest Ruby_ ,

     _I am so glad to hear that you and Peter have arrived safely! You must be tired, and I pray that that boy will get a roof over your head quickly._

Ruby chuckled, though she couldn’t stop a tear from rolling down her cheek onto the page as emotion swelled in her chest to hear her grandmother’s no-nonsense voice so clearly.

    _Now, be sure to remember everything I told you. I know in the heat of early autumn, you will feel like you have plenty of time before winter, but don’t be foolish! You_ _are not in Boston anymore. You’ll want to get four walls up around you, and store up plenty of food for the winter. Make friends of your neighbours! They will also be_ _able to advise you on how to best navigate your first year._

Ruby bit her lip as she scanned her grandmother’s letter, eager to take in every word as fast as she could. True to her grandmother’s form, the letter was brief, and held more instruction than flowery sentiment, but Ruby thought she would burst at the ending.

     _For all the grief I give you, I’m pleased as punch for you both. Take care of each other, and don’t forget to write your old grandmother now and again. I may be in_ _Boston, but I still need to keep an eye on you!_

 _All my love,  
_ _Your Granny_

 Ruby threw the letter onto the quilt beside her and tore into the next one, bracing for the shift in tone she knew would surely follow.

      _Oh my dear child_ ,

 —Ruby took a deep breath to steady herself, willing herself to get through the letter without too many tears—

     _I can’t even imagine what you are going through right now. My heart breaks for you in this time of loss, but you must know you have very little time for grief. I wish I could ride out to you this moment, but I must settle for these words._

_By the time this reaches you, you will have already made many difficult choices. Be careful, girl, for you need to take care of yourself and your unborn child!_

_I am glad to hear you have found shelter for the winter. I know it couldn’t have been easy to wed so soon after Peter’s death, but rest assured that sometimes you must do such impossible things. You are strong and you have a good head on your shoulders—you will get through this!_

_Please, be wary and wise. I pray that your new husband is kind, but be careful not to be too trusting. To be blunt, many men wouldn’t think twice of taking advantage of their due as a husband, and while I am glad you are saved the danger of being a vulnerable widow in such a godless frontier, your new arrangement may come with_ _its own obstacles._

Ruby wiped her eyes, clearing her vision before she could continue.

     _Most of all, know that I am counting down the days until you and your little one can return to me. I know it feels like an eternity, but it will only be a few short months until we see each other again._

_Be strong! And know that I love you with all my heart._

_Yours always,  
_ _Granny_

As she read the final words, Ruby let the tears stream down her face as she pressed the letter to her chest. A whole throng of emotions washed over her, everything jumbled together, tossing about like pebbles in a rushing current. For a moment, she was a child again, wishing more than anything that she could crawl into her grandmother’s lap and cry until she ran dry of tears, to have her grandmother rock her as she held her tight, “shushing” her and telling her that everything would be okay.

And with that, an ache rose in her chest to think of the fears her grandmother held for her. Perhaps her senses had been dulled in her grief, but Ruby hadn’t thought about the dangers that could come from wedding Archie. She had been consumed only by the utter heartbreak at taking another man as her husband.

Reading her grandmother’s letters dug up the grief she had buried—the letters forcing her to relive those awful days. A time of heartbreak and uncertainty, which felt so far away from the Christmas and New Year’s she’d just celebrated, now so fresh.

Was she forgetting Peter? Was she actually enjoying her new life?

Perhaps for the first time, Ruby realized that she’d never had a reason to fear Archie—and, perhaps, she had taken that for granted. Granny was right—she could have found herself tethered to a man who would not have even been considered cruel to extract her wifely duties from her. Ruby shuddered at the thought and rubbed her stomach, and she glanced at the door as if to remind herself the goodness of the man—the father—who was on the other side.

No, whatever troubles she’d had to deal with, she was grateful to Providence or God for where she’d ended up.

Still, despite the realization, Ruby found herself exhausted as she reread her grandmother’s words a few more times in the fading light. A knock at the door made her jump, realizing how late it was. “Just a moment!” she called, tucking the letters in a drawer and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

She opened the door to see Archie, his brow creased in concern, and it reminded Ruby of their earlier interactions back in September when she’d first come to live with him.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, his voice soft and deep so that it shot through her.

She offered him a small, wet smile. “Yes.”

“Do you want me and August to take care of ourselves for supper? If you need more time alone—”

Ruby shook her head quickly. “No, no—I’ll be right there,” she said, wiping under her eyes. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“It’s okay,” Archie assured her, and Ruby locked her eyes with his. “Take all the time you need.”

 

* * *

 

Ruby felt Archie’s watchful eye for the next few days, but he seemed to relax when he was convinced that she was okay. Perhaps it was a little unnecessary, but Ruby was grateful for the excuse to press on with her tasks, refusing to let a new wave of grief wash over her.

She quickly wrote her grandmother a reply and sent it off with Archie the next Saturday he was back to town. Ruby noticed that, in addition to his usual Saturday visits, his mysterious trips to town had resumed while the weather was good, arousing her suspicions when he returned with nothing. She longed to ask him what it was all about, but she bit her tongue.

One Sunday, she watched him head out on his usual weekly outing, Pongo at his side. She waited a few moments after the door had shut behind him to rush to the window to see in which direction he was heading.

Curiosity beat in her chest, and she couldn’t resist the open air and the chance of a new discovery.

“August, you stay here and continue your sums. You can even move on to your reading, if you prefer, while I’m gone. I’m just going to get some air.” She grabbed her coat and buttoned it up over her shawl as best she could.

She barely had time to hear August grumbling before she was out the door, shutting it behind her with a satisfying _click_.

The air held more bite than normal and the sky was overcast. Still, Ruby was glad for the escape from the four walls of the cabin.

She noticed Archie’s large tracks and long strides in the snow, accompanied by Pongo’s paw prints. She followed the trail in the direction in which she saw them disappear, taking careful steps to not give herself away.

She came upon a small cluster of birch trees, a gathering so thin the she could see Archie seated on the other side, Pongo on his rump beside him. He used a fallen log as a bench, and his perch was carefully chosen on top of a hill, overlooking a great valley, similar to the view that Ruby and Peter had first seen when they arrived.

The view was majestic, even in the heart of winter—the snow cloaked the treeline so that both the evergreen trees and the bare branches of those who had lost their leaves looked soft to the touch under a blanket of white.

Ruby held her breath, hiding in the midst of the trees, not daring to approach any closer, not daring to twitch a muscle lest she give herself away.

Archie’s back was to her, and he seemed so caught up in the view. She strained to hear if he was saying something, and she thought she heard music.

Was he _singing_?

She had always wondered what exactly he did when he disappeared on his Sunday outings, but now she felt like she was invading on a sacred moment. And yet—she couldn’t look away. There was something reverent about this spot, though it was just a log in the snow on a hill, and she was drawn to the words he sung.

_Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love. Take my heart, Lord, take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above._

Ruby stood and listened, hunched over slightly as she leaned on a tree trunk. She thought she recognized the tune—perhaps she and Granny had sung it from the old hymn books back at church. She hadn’t thought much of the music, but perhaps that was because it was led by a preacher who couldn’t carry a tune and looked like he would rather damn you to hell than save your soul.

With Archie, she could hear—and _see_ as he raised his hands to the heavens—that these words meant something. His voice was so clear and melodic and he seemed to truly believe the words he was singing, offering them up to God.

Ruby froze when he stopped singing, scared that he was about to turn around to discover an intruder. Instead, he began to speak, and Ruby realized he was praying.

It should have been comical, a grown man talking to himself, and maybe Ruby would have chuckled a few months ago. But she’d seen Archie’s steadfast faith at work, and she had wondered if it was the reason for his calm nature. She recalled the stories from the Bible they’d read, particularly the nativity story, and Ruby felt a stirring in her heart, wondering if she could ever know God like that.

Suddenly, Ruby heard the whinny of a horse, and she gasped as she spun around, searching for the source of the noise.

“Prince?” Ruby whispered, her eyes wide to see a chestnut horse a few yards away.

Her heart rose in her throat as she took steady steps towards the creature, careful not to scare him away. Had the horse that had caused her all this trouble really found her?

She continued taking slow steps, made even more difficult by the deep snow and her large size. Each step seemed to take her further away from the animal, and she shivered as the wind whipped around her.

She continued like that for countless paces. “Prince!” she finally shouted, desperate to reach him. Exhaustion crept in around her, and she suddenly realized the thick snow falling, made even more threatening by the wind that grew more and more fierce.

Panic began to rise as Ruby looked around and saw no recognizable landmarks.

Tears stung her eyes as she pressed forward, praying the direction she’d started in was the right one. Her legs burned with each step and she longed for the warmth of the cabin. She fought the weight that hung in her limbs, her steps dragging against the pull that threatened to swallow her. The next thing she knew, the ground rose up to her right before the world faded to black.

 

* * *

 

Archie shoved open the door to the cabin and let Pongo in as the wind whipped the snow all around them. He breathed a sigh of relief to be safe from the impending storm until he caught August’s eye and froze.

The boy’s eyes were wide. “August, what’s wrong?” Archie asked, his heart in his throat. “Where’s Ruby?”

“She’s not with you?” the boy asked, his voice small.

Archie’s pulse began to race, and he grabbed the gun from the pegs over the door and thrust it to August.

“She left right after you, Pa,” August explained.

“I’m going to go get her,” Archie said as calmly as he could. “You know what to do—if I’m not back in ten minutes, you go outside and put it straight up and keep shooting.”

August gripped the gun and nodded.

“Pongo, you stay here, boy.” Archie bent down and kissed August’s head before he left, bracing for the snowy wall outside.

He lifted his arm against the snow that beat at him, wincing to try to see what he could. He started off in the direction he’d come, hoping she wouldn’t be far from the house.

“Ruby!” he yelled, though he felt frustratingly powerless against the howling wind. “Ruby!”

He tried to fight the panic that rose within him, terrified that he was in a losing battle as what light there was was quickly fading. _Oh, Lord, please help me find her. Please let everything be okay._

He kept his paces steady, straining to see a few feet ahead of him. Each breath he dragged into his lungs stung, but he pressed on, trying to keep his breathing even. “Ruby!” he cried, his voice hoarse.

Suddenly, he thought he saw movement to his right that had nothing to do with the whirling snow.

He willed his eyes to focus in that direction and caught a flash of red.

“Ruby!” he cried for the countless time, lunging in that direction. The red shape grew larger, but he stopped in his tracks when he realized she was surrounded by something.

 _Wolves_.

The realization shot fear through Archie, and he began praying like never before.

Slowly, he approached the animals, wishing that he’d brought his gun. Then again, it would do very little against such a pack. At best, he could have taken out one or two before the rest would snatch his life from him in a quick bite or a fierce swipe of the paw.

As he grew closer, he tried to calculate the best method to give them both the greatest chance of escape—however unlikely.

He held his breath and approached with careful steps, crouching down and keeping his gaze lowered to avoid looking like a threat, all while trying to keep his eyes on Ruby.

He was a few feet away, and still, he couldn’t tell if she was even alive. His mind raced, trying to decide if he should just go for broke and rush through them.

And then, the strangest thing happened—they backed away. Archie froze, watching these massive animals that, while they had at first appeared to be circling their next feast, instead seemed to be protecting her from the storm.

He didn’t have time to question the sight and instead rushed through the opening towards the woman in the snow, her red coat draped around her.

“Ruby,” he breathed, snatching her in his arms, terrified that he was too late, panic coursing through his veins. She let out a grown and turned her head towards him as he lifted her up, and relief washed over him in such force that his knees almost buckled underneath him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, holding her close so that her head rested on his chest, tucked under his chin.

He took a deep breath as he looked around to reorient himself. To his surprise, the wolves were gone, and he wondered if he’d dreamt the whole thing.

Shaking his head, he took a step forward, praying he was retracing his steps.

“Come on, August,” he muttered, ducking his head against the wind that beat the snow against them. He strained to hear the gunshots that would lead them home, and terror began to rise again when he could only hear the violent whistle of the blizzard.

Then, he heard it—a banging coming from a little bit to his left. He turned his paces to that direction, his eyes burning as he fought to see through his glasses wet with snow.

“We’re almost there,” he told Ruby as the banging grew louder. The house couldn’t be far.

After what seemed like ages, Archie was able to make out the rough shadow of the cabin, which grew more clear with a haze of light coming through the windows. Archie pushed forward, eager to assure August that everything was okay almost as much as he yearned for the safety of the cabin.

And there he was, the redheaded boy who looked so small in the doorway, banging a pot with a ladle held up above his head as if his life depended on it.

“Pa!” he shouted in relief, stepping back to let him enter with Ruby in his arms. Then, fear coloured his voice as he shut the door behind them and scrambled after his pa to the bedroom. “Is she alright?”

Archie couldn’t let his son know he wondered the same thing. “Grab me a pail of snow and bring it here,” Archie instructed as he placed Ruby on the bed. “Quickly!”

Archie fumbled with his buttons and shrugged his coat off, letting it drop to the floor in order to free up his own movements to better help Ruby. He relaxed only slightly to see her breathing was even, but a hand to her cheek told him her skin was ice cold.

Wasting no time, he took off her coat and threw it to August’s bed. Next, he took off her dress and underskirts, as well as her shoes and stockings, everything soaked through.

August came in and dropped the pail of snow at the end of the bed.

“Now, go add more logs to the fire,” Archie told August, his eyes never leaving Ruby. “Keep the bedroom door open—we need to make her warm.”

Archie only heard rather than saw August behind him, the clatter of logs being added to the hearth with a few _thuds_.

Archie wished he’d thought to bring his bag of supplies into the house, but he hadn’t used them for so long. He should have known to have them close at hand with the baby’s impending arrival, but for now, he’d have to make do with what he had, being separated from his trunk in the barn by a howling blizzard.

“Stay with me, Ruby,” he muttered, having stripped her of her garments right down to her undershirt. Without the bulk of her clothing, he pressed his ear to her chest to check her breathing and heartbeat. He relaxed slightly to hear her even breaths and a strong pulse, which he confirmed with a grip to her wrist.

Fear still hammered in his chest as he moved to her stomach and prodded gently. He thought he sensed movement and prayed that the child would kick once the mother was warmer. He pressed an ear to her stomach, wishing he had his tools with him to properly sense a heartbeat. There seemed to be no cause for concern, but he wouldn’t let himself rest easy yet.

Her feet now bare, Archie took them in his hands and rubbed them with snow to warm them up slowly, guarding against frostbite. The room was almost dark, save for the bit of light coming in through the doorway. The space became darker, alerting Archie to August’s presence.

“Can you please light the lantern?” Archie asked over his shoulder. “And then I need you to heat up some water on the stove.”

Silence came from behind him, though the room grew slightly brighter as August began his next tasks, the doorway now empty.

Archie began to dry Ruby’s legs off with a blanket he’d grabbed from the end of the bed. Tossing that aside, he moved to massaging her limbs, first her arms, and then her legs, to increase the blood-flow.

He resisted the urge to cover her up right away and waited a few moments. He studied her features, almost peaceful in sleep, and his shoulders relaxed slightly to see her chest rise and fall with even breaths.

With nothing more to be done immediately, Archie went to the main room and grabbed some bricks by the front door and carefully put them in the oven before adding more kindling to the fire. Tapping his heel, he glanced around the room, mind racing with the next step.

The water was boiled, so Archie started some coffee for himself, already feeling the weariness creep into his bones. He also got out an extra cup for Ruby, setting the tin of green tea beside it on the table in anticipation of when she’d awaken.

He paced back and forth between the bedroom and the kitchen, feeling nauseous at the fact that he could do very little. August was sitting on his own bed, his legs crossed, resting his chin in his hands, his eyes fixed on Ruby.

Deciding it was time to cover her up, Archie pulled one blanket over her, carefully resting it over her chest. He felt her cheeks and forehead, grateful that she was warming up, but fear niggled in him that she could soon have a fever.

And all he could do was wait.

For a little while, he sat on the bed with August as they kept watch over Ruby. Every now and then she would stir, and Archie’s heart would race before she fell quiet again, her face pale in the lamplight.

Archie realized that neither of them had had supper, and though August insisted he wasn’t hungry—echoing Archie’s own sentiment—he made them eat some bread and butter. Then, it was time for August to get into bed, and though the boy protested, he fell asleep quickly, much to Archie’s relief.

The bricks in the oven were now hot, and he carefully wrapped them in cloth before placing them by Ruby’s feet under the covers. To assuage his own concerns—or at least pretend he could do _something_ —he checked her pulse again, assured that it was getting stronger. He also examined her belly, and, though the child was more still than he hoped, there was enough movement to suggest there was no immediate danger.

The room was strangely quiet, save for the wind howling outside, beating the snow against the sturdy walls of the cabin. The flame of the lamp cast shadows about the room, and he could catch the flickering of the hearth outside the bedroom door, sending shadows dancing on one side of the bedroom.

He brought a chair in from the kitchen and placed it beside Ruby, resigned to the fact that there was very little else he could do but keep watch over her.

He fought to keep his eyes open, though he was helpless to the weight that pulled him downwards, and he eventually rested his head on the edge of the bed, his arm his pillow. He took off his spectacles and set them on the table under the window, rubbing his eyes as he tried to sit up for a few moments.

August’s steady breaths, not quite snores, lulled him to rest his eyes for a moment.

Ruby stirred again, a whimper or two escaping. Archie shot up and searched her features for any signs of distress, and though her brow creased for a moment as she tossed and turned, she soon relaxed into a deeper sleep. Archie let out a sigh, only then aware that he was holding his breath.

“Pa? Is she okay?”

Archie turned around, realizing the darkness of the room without the lamp, which must have burned out.

He gave his son a small smile. “Yes, she’s okay.”

“And the baby?” The boy’s voice was so tiny and it tugged at Archie’s chest.

“The baby is fine,” Archie said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He shifted over to sit on August’s bed. “Now it’s time for you to go back to sleep, okay?”

August didn’t answer, instead throwing a glance at Ruby—or, what he thought was directed towards Ruby. Archie was about to protest when his son moved as if to get out of bed until he realized he was stretching towards the little table between the beds. He was almost out from the covers completely as he reached for the larger wooden wolf figurine and pushed it so it was as close to Ruby as it could be without falling of the edge.

“There,” he said with a self-satisfied nod.

Archie smiled, his heart full at the gesture, and August shimmied under the quilts and lay down on his pillow. He pulled the blankets up to the boy’s chin and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Good night, Son.”

August drifted back to sleep quickly, leaving Archie alone with his thoughts, which he struggled to focus into prayers. He longed for sleep, himself, but didn’t want to leave Ruby unattended.

He did dare to go into the main room to add some more logs to the fire in an effort to keep the house warm. The cabin was small, but the bedroom was still far from the reach of the hearth. He rubbed his neck as he made another pot of coffee, all of a sudden wishing for the luxury of fireplaces for every room.

Thank goodness the baby was due in March—he couldn’t imagine trying to keep a newborn warm in the dead of winter.

His mind was too foggy to think through any ideas past that muddled thought. He returned to his post in the bedroom with his mug in hand, fear still eating at his stomach, his fight against the weight of sleep proving unsuccessful.

He awoke to a whimper above him, growing louder and more desperate. He sat up, blinking to focus on his surroundings in the dim light of dawn still hovering under the horizon.

Archie shoved his glasses on before turning his attention to Ruby. “Sh-h-h-h-h, Ruby, it’s okay, I’m right here,” he said in hushed tones. He leaned over her and brought his hand up to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, which seemed to calm her, and her movements stilled.

Her eyes fluttered open and Archie’s breath hitched in his throat, a smile instinctively spreading over his features. “H-hey,” he stammered as her eyes met his, and his heart felt like it would burst at this sign of life.

_Thank You, Lord._

And yet, her eyes were full of such pain as two matching tears ran down her cheeks. Her green eyes were as dark as a storm, and Archie felt an ache in his chest as he caught a glimpse of whatever battle she was fighting.

“It’s all my fault,” she whispered so quietly that Archie almost didn’t catch the words.

“What? No, Ruby, no, it’s not your fault,” he said softly. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but he suspected she was talking about more than her foray into the blizzard.

She looked away, unable to stop the tears from coming. She moved her hands to her stomach, and only then did Archie realize he had been holding the hand that was closest to him, his gaze moving from his hand back to her face as he sat back in his chair.

“I… I let Prince escape,” Ruby said, still looking away, and Archie had to strain to hear her.

“What do you mean?” he asked carefully and leaned forward, sensing that there was something more she needed to say.

She licked her lips before she continued, her gaze fixed out the window. “I… I went out for a ride. On Prince. And… and I thought I tied him up again. But then, in the morning, he’d escaped.”

Archie nodded, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together in a fist, piecing together what she was telling him.

“It was stupid—so stupid. And Peter just rode off to find him. He was supposed to come back.” She paused and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to keep the tears at bay. “He didn’t come back… b-because of _me_!”

A sob overtook her and Archie jumped over to the bed and took Ruby in his arms in one swift motion as she rose up to meet him. She clung to him in an awkward embrace, her body shaking as she let her silent sobs consume her.

Archie swallowed, his mouth dry as he tried to find the words to banish the guilt that weighed on her. “No, Ruby, it’s not your fault—this was never your fault,” he said over and over again, feeling the desperation as her fingers dug into him, and he held her tightly.

She gripped him as close as she was able, her stomach pressed against him as she clung to him for a long while. Her sobs melted to shudders and her grip began to relax. Archie stroked her back a couple of times before she pulled back and took a deep breath, running her fingers under her eyes.

“I’m s-sorry,” Ruby hiccupped, wiping her cheeks dry with both hands.

Archie thought his heart would break as he realized the burden she’d been carrying all this time. “Ruby, you had nothing to do with Peter’s accident,”—he rested his hands on her forearms as if to emphasize his point—“do you hear me? There’s nothing you could have done. The horse escaped, and Peter had to go after him.”

Ruby finally met his gaze, and his eyes flitted back and forth to study hers, wet and filled with exhaustion—and maybe the smallest glimmer of relief.

Slowly, she nodded before she dropped her gaze. Archie shifted to the top of the bed and helped her sit up so she could rest on his shoulder with his arm around her as he sat on the edge on top of the quilt. He realized his left shoulder was soaked through, but he didn’t care in the least.

That was how August found them when he awoke a short while later. His eyes widened as he shot out of bed and his face lit up. “Miss Ruby!” he cried, throwing himself at her before Archie could warn him to be careful.

“Hi, August,” Ruby greeted warmly, giving the boy a hug.

“Okay, you’ve said hello, now it’s time to get changed and get to your chores before breakfast,” Archie instructed sternly, though not without a smile peeking through. August nodded and grabbed his clothes with his boyish energy and soon he bounded off. Archie could hear the rustling of fabric as he bundled up to go collect the eggs.

A thought dawned on Archie and he jumped up, running to catch the boy before he got too far.

“August!” he called out the main door. “Can you please feed the animals in the barn as well?”

He got no more than a “’kay!” and a wave of the hand from August, but that was enough for him.

He quickly shut the door to keep the warmth inside and turned to boil more water on the stove. With a mug of coffee for himself and another of tea for Ruby, he returned to the bedroom, where Ruby was slumped against the pillows.

She brightened when he came in and sat up as best she could, though Archie noticed she was still pale, her eyes puffy and rimmed with dark shadows.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her her mug before he took a seat on the chair.

She smiled her thanks before taking a long sip. She breathed in the steam that rose up, and Archie warmed to see her well after the long night.

After a pause, she met his gaze. “I’m sorry… about this,” she said softly.

Archie shook his head. “No need—I’m just glad you’re doing okay.” He wished he could say more, but anything that came to mind seemed clumsy and awkward.

Finally, he asked, “Do you want me to leave you to rest? Or do you want something to eat?”

It was Ruby’s turn to shake her head. She licked her lips, parting them briefly as if she want to say something before closing them again. Archie offered her a small smile before he took another sip of his drink.

“Peter and I were married shortly before we came out west,” she said suddenly, and Archie straightened in his seat, eager to hear whatever she wanted to tell him—though he couldn’t deny it felt strange to be reminded of her first husband, however odd that was to admit even to himself.

She glanced down at her mug as her words toppled out, one over the other. “We’d known each other for a couple of years, when he and his father moved to the area. He was training to be a blacksmith under his pa,” she explained. “I was with Granny at the boarding house.” She looked up at Archie and he nodded. “My mother died when I was a baby, and we never knew my father, so it was always just Granny and me and the house she ran.”

Archie’s heart swelled to be trusted enough to hear about Ruby’s past—and he longed to know more. Even so, he kept silent, waiting for her to continue in her own time.

“We were young and stupid and wanted adventure in the frontier.” She let out a sad chuckle and dropped her gaze again, and Archie knew the cynicism that lay behind the smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Granny insisted that Peter be able to support us before we got married, so we had to wait a year. Besides, we wanted to be ready, so we had to plan for the best time to join the wagon train.”

She met his gaze. “We… we would have been married a year come February,” she said softly. “And I… I never got a chance to tell him about the baby.”

Archie’s heart rose to his throat, and he could see tears well up in her eyes before they spilled over, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

He set their mugs down on the table and shifted over to the bed, wrapping her in his arms again. “It’s okay,” he murmured as she hugged him back, and he stroked her hair, wondering if this was the first time she’d really let herself grieve. Archie took a deep breath, overwhelmed with the pain that she’d been holding inside, and he wished he could take some of that on for her sake.

Soon, she was fast asleep, leaving Archie to close the bedroom door behind him before he turned his attention to the other needs of the day.

 


	20. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby grows impatient to meet her child.

Ruby regained her strength quickly, and soon—too soon for Archie’s liking, really—she was up and about as if nothing had happened.

She waved off any concern he had, ignoring his pleas to take it easy and insisting she “needed to do what she could before she was no good to anyone.” He arched his brow at her but didn’t press further, both glad for her enthusiasm and worried she was pushing herself too hard.

He did notice that she began to slow down as the weeks passed and her time grew closer. More often than not, she would accept a chair offered and rest while he or August took over some of the chores, and they, in turn, pretended to follow her instructions.

If Archie was worried about the health of the baby, he didn’t need to wonder long on that front, either. Ruby’s excitement at each flutter and kick had quickly grown to annoyance, and he couldn’t help but chuckle every time she complained about the activity within her.

“This is definitely Peter’s child,” she playfully groaned one day, taking a step back from the stove to rub the side of her belly. “He won’t stop kicking and jumping. I swear, I half expect this boy to run away to join the circus!”

Archie almost offered to rub her back for her, wishing to ease her discomfort, but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. He felt a little guilty about the delight with which he had watched her grow, now that she was so uncomfortable, and he saw how she loved throwing herself into her preparations. Their cozy evenings in front of the fireplace had seen the pile of baby things beside her grow—both sewn and knitted—and Archie couldn’t believe that soon there would be such a tiny addition to their family.

Indeed, the excitement he felt, the anticipation, took him by surprise. His heart was already full, picturing a baby in the household—Ruby with her child in her arms, rocking him or her to sleep by the fire. A little brother or sister for August. He should have known better, but he hadn’t expected his heart to be filled with such love for a child he hadn’t even met yet, and he had to remind himself that this wouldn’t be a permanent situation.

Ruby would eventually be leaving to go back east.

The thought stabbed at him with more force than he expected, especially when she’d flash him her smile as they sat around the kitchen table, or when her eyes were filled with excitement as she held up the latest piece of clothing that looked like it was meant for a doll.

_You knew this would happen, Hopper. This is not a surprise._

And yet, all Archie could do was shake his head at himself and ignore the knowledge that heartbreak was the only thing that lay ahead.

 

* * *

 

Ruby took a deep breath and stopped her knitting, her hands frozen in place as her grip tightened around the needles. She let out her breath slowly, trying to focus on the sound of August reading beside her, to think of anything but the fierce kick the baby had given to her ribs or the way he liked to make a plaything of her bladder. And to think, she’d been excited when she’d first felt the baby move! While she’d had an easy pregnancy, she was growing weary of being pregnant and looking forward to holding her child in her arms… outside of her body.

As she resumed her knitting, she glanced up at Archie and caught his eyes before she quickly looked away. So he had noticed. Ruby smiled to herself as she focused on her work, the soft yarn running through her fingers as the little cap grew on her needles.

After a few moments, she threw another glance at Archie, who was hunched over his books on the kitchen table. She furrowed her brow, curiosity nibbling at her as to what he was working on so intensely, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask, and he didn’t offer. There was something familiar about the crease in his brow, or the way he absentmindedly licked his lips when he was lost in thought, looking over the pages before he’d scribble something down. It was probably just records for the homestead, but she hoped everything was okay.

Suddenly, he closed his books and stood up, and Ruby started. She raised her brow, but he only smiled back and collected his books, tucking them in his drawer. Then, he made his way to the hooks by the door.

“I’m just going to the barn,” he finally said, shrugging on his coat. “I won’t be long.”

“Okay,” Ruby replied with a nod, wholly unsatisfied. She looked at August and shrugged before her fingers continued their activity.

August took his father’s absence as an excuse to stop his reading, and he let his book flop to his lap. “Miss Ruby, I have a question.”

“Oh?” Ruby asked with a smirk. “Just one?” She looked back at August and her features softened at his earnest expression. “I’m listening,” she assured him.

“Well, I was wondering, and seeing as you’re going to have one, I thought you could tell me—where did your baby come from?”

Ruby froze and her eyes widened. “I—uh—didn’t your pa ever tell you?” she finished lamely.

“No, ma’am,” he said with a sincere shake of his head, his eyes fixed on hers.

Ruby frowned, her hands resting on her stomach as she grasped at a suitable explanation. It was no wonder the boy was curious, given her state, but surely Archie would have explained certain things by now!

“Don’t you know where your own baby came from?” he asked, tucking his chin and looking up at her.

“Of course I do!” Ruby sputtered, her cheeks flushed at the fact that she was losing ground to a nine-year-old. “It’s just… _complicated._ ”

August sat back in his chair with a huff. “I don’t see why—everyone’s always having ‘em, but nobody says how they came. And I’m not a kid—I know the stork doesn’t bring them.”

Ruby tried not to chuckle. “Of course. I just… no one’s asked me so directly before.”

There was a pause, and August arched his brow at Ruby to urge her to continue.

“Okay,” Ruby said, taking a deep breath and turning slightly in her chair towards the boy. She rested her knitting on her stomach, having no lap to speak of, and she lifted her hands up for emphasis. “A baby happens when… a ma and pa love each other so much, that they come together, and”—she chewed her lip in thought, unsure of how to continue—“well, it just spills over and makes a baby.”

“It?” August asked, crossing his arms.

“It,” Ruby said quickly. “The love. _It_.”

She picked up her knitting again, but noticed the wheels still turning in the boy’s head.

“So, if this baby is from your first husband, does that mean you don’t love my pa? ‘Cause he’s your husband now.”

Ruby froze, a new kind of panic seizing her. Her mind raced, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted Archie to come in and save her from this conversation or to stay in complete ignorance of this interaction.

“It’s just that, I loved my husband first,” Ruby tried to explain, knowing that she didn’t need to get into the semantics of his question. At the very least, August was very inquisitive, but at most, he wanted to be reassured. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care for your father. They’re just different.”

“Okay,” August replied with a shrug.

Ruby kept a close eye on him as he absentmindedly picked up his book. She could tell he wasn’t quite finished, though, and she braced for the next question as she began her knitting.

“I guess there’s a lot of love over at Emma’s house,” August declared. “She’s got herself _and_ a brother.”

Ruby fought to hold back her laughter and instead let out a snort. “That’s one way of putting it,” she exclaimed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “But I think you’d better get back to your reading if you want to be finished this chapter before your pa gets back.” She nodded to his book and he rolled his eyes before dutifully turning his focus to the pages.

Ruby smiled to herself, affection washing over her. She thought over her words—assuring August that she cared for his father—and, though they’d known each other for a few short months, she realized it was true. Then again, one was bound to feel something for a person with whom you shared such close quarters, and Archie was a good man.

She also knew deep down that she would have a very hard time leaving the enthusiastic nine-year-old beside her, and she pushed the thought aside as it jabbed into her heart suddenly. Instead, she reminded herself of the fun to come, meeting her child and introducing him or her to August, who she knew would be quite the attentive big brother.

She would also have to figure out how to suggest to Archie that he might need to have a more detailed discussion on a certain subject that was best left to a father to explain to his son.

 

* * *

 

The afternoon faded quickly, and soon Ruby was placing dinner on the table. The sky was dark, and Ruby was tempted to send August out after his father—knowing he could manage the short distance to the barn with a lantern—but relief washed over her when Archie entered.

“You were gone awhile,” she noted as he hung up his coat and hat.

“I was just finishing something up,” he said as an apology. He didn’t say more, and Ruby followed his lead as they all sat down to the table and bowed their heads for grace.

Ruby didn’t have to wait long for at least one of Archie’s secrets to reveal itself. After the meal, Archie disappeared out the door. Before Ruby had a chance to question August, his father appeared carrying a large wooden structure.

“A cradle!” Ruby exclaimed, rising up from her seat awkwardly. “Oh, Archie, a cradle!”

She clasped her hands together and rushed to examine it, right down to the beautiful carvings of stars all around the edge and crowned by a moon at the headboard.

“Did you make this?” Ruby asked softly, her gaze finally meeting Archie’s as she bent over as best she could with her stomach.

“I was thinking you’d need a place for the baby to sleep once he or she arrives,” Archie explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s magnificent.” She traced the delicate carvings with her fingers, her chest tight with emotion to think of all the hard work he’d put into it—for _her._ For a child that wasn’t even naturally his.

The wood was solid, the joints strong. With a few blankets, it would be cozy for a newborn, and for a moment, Ruby was lost in the picture of her child sleeping soundly as she rocked him. She instinctively rested her hand on her stomach as the future became vibrantly real.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her eyes fixed on the cradle before she looked up and met Archie’s gaze. He helped her up, and she wrapped her arms around him.

“Oh, I—y-you’re welcome,” he stammered, gingerly placing his hands on her back.

Ruby pulled back and wiped at her eyes, her vision blurred slightly, making the carvings of the cradle look magical in the flickering light. So, that’s what he’d been up to.

Ruby took a deep breath, her chest full with the knowledge that everything was coming together—both excited and terrified that everything was about to change.

 

* * *

 

February came and went in its own dull bleakness, the depth of winter holding strong before the first hint of spring would begin its thaw in March. In the midst of her preparations for baby’s arrival, Ruby didn’t forget an important anniversary—her and Peter’s wedding. February 18 marked what would have been their first year of marriage, and the realization hit Ruby like a kick to the stomach. When she awoke, she twirled Peter’s ring around on her finger before pressing it to her lips, sending a word of thanks to the heavens for their short months together. For a moment, she let herself remember, tears pricking her eyes and grief clutching at her chest. Then, she blinked, threw off the covers, and shuffled out of bed.

There was lots to do.

She could tell that Archie noticed her solemn state, and she whispered her explanation to him as she poured his coffee, while August was at a safe distance getting dressed. Thankfully, he didn’t make much of it—only offered his sympathies in his quiet way, with a look and a nod and a squeeze to her shoulder. He also suggested that he could take August out for the day with him to town, but Ruby insisted that it wasn’t necessary. In truth, she didn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts on this of all days.

The bittersweet remembering also coloured the anticipation of her child’s arrival. She was excited to meet her little one, but her heart ached at the thought that he would never know his father. Mixed with that, she also became more anxious about what could go wrong as the time grew near.

Relief washed over her when the Nolans were able to visit at the end of the month. Ruby rushed out to greet them—or, more accurately, waddled—forgetting her shawl in her haste. The two women hugged after Mary Margaret hopped down from the carriage, which turned into exclamations over Ruby’s size and rubs to her stomach.

They laughed as Archie herded them safely inside along with the children, mumbling something about the cold. Ruby let out a happy sigh when she and Mary Margaret were finally able to relax by the fire with baby Leo—who was growing big, himself, nearing his first birthday—while Archie and David amused Emma and August outside. It had been decided that Mary Margaret would help with the birth, since she was both experienced and close by, and after Ruby had exhausted every possible question she had—having taken advantage of one of the last times alone with her friend before the big day arrived—the conversation shifted to a surprising topic.

“So, has there been any news on the doctor?” Mary Margaret asked nonchalantly before taking a sip of her tea. Leo was relaxed in her other arm, having finally stopped his squirming, his eyelids heavy as she bounced him on her arm.

Ruby gawked, completely baffled. “Doctor?”

“Didn’t you know?” Mary Margaret replied with a frown as she placed her mug on the table. “Archie’s been canvassing the whole town like a madman, trying to stir up support to bring a doctor to Storybrooke. He even managed to get Cora Mills on board, of all people.” Mary Margaret paused, taking in Ruby’s expression. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t spill his secret. I just assumed you knew—everyone this side of the state line must know by now!”

“No wonder,” Ruby murmured, sinking into her chair as realization dawned, the last piece of the puzzle fitting into place. All his mysterious trips to town, no matter the weather, and coming back exhausted with an empty wagon. “ _That’s_ what he’s been up to this whole time.” She threw a look out the window, though she couldn’t see him, and she rubbed her stomach as a lump rose in her throat.

Mary Margaret grabbed her cup again and continued on like nothing had happened. “He wanted to have the doctor come before your time came, but I don’t think he’s going to arrive until the summer. He must not have said anything so as not to get your hopes up.”

Ruby swallowed and blinked to clear her vision as she brought her focus back to her friend. Archie’s gesture spoke volumes, even though she would probably be long gone before she could even meet the doctor. Still, Storybrooke deserved to have a doctor of their own. “Thank you for telling me,” she said, reaching out to squeeze her friend’s hand.

Even after all these months, Ruby found she was still surprised by Archibald Hopper. 


	21. And Baby Makes Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby is thrilled at signs that the baby is on its way, but all does not quite go as planned.

February gave way to March with no sign of spring. Winter held fast, the snow piled high and the deep cold stubbornly pressed into the cabin, only adding to Ruby’s discomfort. With everyday tasks made more and more difficult, Ruby prayed that each new day would bring the arrival of her son—and every night, she would go to bed disappointed, her spirits and body tired from the wait.

One night, a sharp pain woke her suddenly. She held her breath, waiting for a second sign which came a moment later. She took a deep breath before she sat up as quickly as she could, her blood beating fast in her veins in both excitement and apprehension.

She ignored the chill in the cabin as she fumbled her way to the bedroom door and plodded to the corner of the house where Archie slept, her path dimly lit by the faint moonlight coming in through the windows. She hadn’t even bothered to grab her shawl or light a candle, but she took no notice of the dark or the cold.

“Archie,” she hissed, pulling back the curtain to his room in a brazen gesture that she would not have dared under normal circumstances. Her hands clutched at her stomach as she tried to wake him. “Archie!”

The man stirred on his cot, slowly waking from his peaceful sleep. His eyes fluttered open and his brow creased in confusion, and Ruby wondered if she’d ever seen him without his glasses before.

“Archie, I think it’s _time_.”

One last look of bewilderment crossed his face before realization dawned and he sprang up in his bed. He fumbled for his glasses on the windowsill before jumping up, his eyes searching Ruby’s in the dim light. “It’s time?” he repeated.

Ruby nodded, her chest pounding. “I think so,” she said in a small voice.

She thought she saw a flash of a smile cross Archie’s expression and he squeezed her hands before taking charge. “You must be freezing,” he exclaimed, guiding her to the main room and instructing her to sit down.

He immediately lit the hearth, and then the stove, and Ruby marvelled at the focus in his actions. “When did the pains start?” he asked, his back to her as he crouched at the stove.

“I—I don’t know. I just woke up, and there was a pang in my middle. Or maybe in my back.”

“Did your… did your waters break?”

“Um—no,” Ruby admitted, trying to recall what Mary Margaret had told her. She was still a bit foggy from sleep, despite the adrenaline rushing through her, and yet Archie seemed wide awake.

“Okay,” Archie said slowly, his features now lit by the flickering light of the fireplace that grew brighter and brighter. Ruby was grateful for the warmth as she began to realize how cold the cabin was in the middle of the night.

Archie disappeared into her bedroom and returned with her shawl, and she eagerly wrapped it around her shoulders.

He stood in front of her, dressed only in his nightshirt and stockings, his hair sticking up at odd angles and pressed down on one side. He looked around the room, as if deciding on his next task, before he brought a chair around the table and sat down next to her.

“Have you had any more pains?” he asked, leaning towards her with his forearms on his knees. “Are they close together?”

Ruby chewed on her lip. “Um, not really—there’s an ache in my stomach, but there hasn’t been another pain,” she explained.

Archie sat back in his chair, and Ruby’s mind raced to figure out his thoughts.

“Okay,” he said slowly with a nod. “It sounds like there’s nothing much to do yet,” he told her quickly when she furrowed her brow. “The baby won’t be here for a little while. Your pains need to be closer together, and your water will likely break—as if you’d, uh, relieved yourself.”

Ruby nodded as if she knew exactly what she should expect. “You don’t think—you don’t think we should get Mary Margaret?” she asked quietly, hugging her shawl close.

“I think it’s too soon,” Archie replied. “It could be awhile yet before anything happens, and there’s no need to drag her out of bed at this stage.”

Ruby nodded with a pang of disappointment. She would feel better to have Mary Margaret with her, and the thought of even more waiting was more than she could bare. Still, she was glad to have Archie with her. He seemed to know about these things, and Ruby reminded herself that he must have learned when August was born.

The thought brought back questions about what Archie’s life had been like—what his wife was like, and their life together, and how she had died—and she wondered how much she could ask. Before she could bring herself to form any words, Archie stood up, clad in his nightshirt, and grabbed a pot. He took it to the front door and, opening the door, he scooped up the clean snow, shutting the door as quickly as he could.

Ruby shivered, more from seeing him in such a state of undress and being exposed to the harsh winter outside than from being cold herself. She smiled as she watched him boil the water and prepare the tea in the tea pot, deliberate in his movements. His steady presence was familiar, reassuring, and yet, for all the time they’d spent together, she couldn’t bring herself to ask about his past life.

Perhaps there was a small part of her that didn’t want to imagine him and August having a life without her.

Ruby dismissed the foolish notion. They sat in silence together, nursing their mugs of tea as they sat by the fire, waiting for signs of the impending delivery. Archie didn’t say a word, but would at times raise his brows to her, and she would shake her head. _No, nothing more._ Her stomach sank.

As morning broke, with the soft light spilling across the floorboards, Ruby realized that the baby was not on its way quite yet. She apologized to Archie, who was far too generous to a woman who had woken him in the middle of the night in a panic.

There was no time to dwell on embarrassment, however, with the tasks of another day already making their demands. With more yawns than normal, Ruby and Archie continued in their routines, starting with breakfast, where neither mentioned anything to August.

The waiting dragged on for Ruby, and even her chores did little to alleviate her restlessness—though, perhaps, that was also due to her being unable to perform many of her tasks and having already finished her preparations for the child. Her pile of clothes and blankets was more than complete, and the cradle that Archie had made her was already placed beside her bed, eagerly awaiting its occupant’s arrival.

She would not let her eagerness fool her again, however. Archie had told her that it was normal to have pains that did not actually indicate labour, and so she would be sure next time—for her own hopes just as much as to spare him another scare.

On a snowy day at the end of the first week of March, Ruby felt more aches in her back than normal. She brushed them aside, not wanting to get excited over nothing, and continued on with the week’s baking as August worked away at his sums at the table. She was glad that Archie was preoccupied out in the barn. However well-intentioned, she could feel his watch over her. He did insist he needn’t go into town, which Ruby knew was because he didn’t dare risk being away should her time suddenly arise, but at least he’d agreed that there was no harm in being just a stone’s throw away.

The pain in her back gradually increased throughout the day, growing sharper as it moved towards her front. She stubbornly pushed through the pain, refusing to consider what was happening until she was absolutely sure.

As she sat churning the butter with more force than was necessary—with a pause now and then to breathe through the cramping in her stomach—a sudden gush came from between her legs.

Ruby froze, fear and delight bubbling in her chest. “August…”

August didn’t say anything, and she looked up at him from across the room. “August, I need you to do something for me right now.”

“Hmm?” he said, finally glancing up from his book.

“August I need you to go get your father from the barn. _Now._ ”

He stood up slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Is everything okay?”

Ruby took a deep breath. “Yes. Just do as I say, please. And hurry.”

Fortunately, August nodded firmly and scrambled to the front door, pausing just long enough to shove on his boots and coat. Under any other circumstances, Ruby would have made the nine-year-old stop to lace up his boots and fasten his coat properly, along with ensuring he had his mittens and scarf and hat on.

Another wave of pain washed over her, and Ruby gripped the stick of the butter churn. It soon passed, and she stood up, her whole body buzzing with an energy, a restlessness with the knowledge of what was to come. She began to pace around the cabin, walking around the room with her hands on her back with a pause to clutch the table when another pain would come.

It wasn’t long before Archie burst in through the door, followed closely behind by August.

“Is it time?” he asked, rushing towards her without taking off his boots or coat or hat.

“I—I’m not positive, but I think so,” Ruby said, almost bouncing in place. “There was a bit of pain that started this morning, but I thought it was just the normal sort,” she explained, unable to stand still. “It started in my back, but it’s getting stronger, and… my waters broke just a few minutes ago,” she added, her gaze finally resting on Archie’s with a look that begged him to confirm what she hoped.

“August, can you get some water boiling on the stove,” Archie said firmly, his eyes fixed on Ruby’s. His expression was serious, but Ruby thought she caught a glimmer of a smile in his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, taking a step towards her. “Do you—do you want to keep walking, or are you ready to get into bed?”

“I—I—” Ruby began before she doubled over, the pain of another contraction hitting her with full force.

She felt Archie’s hand on her back and his grip on her elbow, and she let him lead her to her bed. He shrugged off his winter layers and threw them by the wall haphazardly, his attention on Ruby.

“Let’s get you out of your dress,” he said, his tone soothing.

“No!” Ruby replied, sitting up. “No, you need to go get Mary Margaret. She’s supposed to be here.”

Ruby froze at the pained look Archie gave her in reply. “Ruby, I’m sorry, but there’s no time—your contractions are close together, and your water already broke. Besides, the snow is too deep—I can’t get to the Nolans’ and back in time.”

“No, no, no, no, no, that was not the plan,” Ruby shook her head vehemently. “Mary Margaret was going to deliver the baby. She is going to be here. She has to be!” Panic seized Ruby and her eyes widened, as if she could plead with Archie enough to change the reality before them. “What if August goes?” she asked, her voice small as she snatched at one last option.

“It’s too far, and too snowy. And he’s too small to ride Cleo on his own,” Archie replied far too calmly. “Sh-h-h, Ruby, just breathe—it’s going to be okay. I promise, I’ve delivered lots of babies.” His grip was firm on her arms, restraining her from getting up.

“Archie Hopper, just because you’ve delivered Flora’s calf and who knows how many other barnyard animals does _not_ mean you are qualified to deliver a human baby!” she cried before squeezing her eyes shut against another wave of pain.

“Yes, I’ll grant you that, but what _does_ qualify me is the fact that I used to be a doctor and have seen to the safe deliveries of countless babies. Does that satisfy you?”

Ruby let out a breath and focused on Archie once more. She studied his clear, blue eyes, searching for any signs of teasing.

He was dead serious.

“You’re—you’re a _doctor?_ ” she gasped, her mind grappling with this new information. “But why—why didn’t you tell me? And why were you so worried about getting another doctor in town?”

She could see a flash of surprise in his eyes that she had discovered one of his secrets before he regained control. “Never mind all that—we’ll have plenty of time to talk later. First, we need to get you out of that dress.”

Ruby finally agreed and laid back, fumbling with the buttons over her front before letting him help her out of her dress and underskirts and pinafore until only her undergarments remained.

Once undressed, she hurriedly pulled the blankets over her to keep some sense of modesty, at least while she could, before another pain overtook her.

“August!” Archie called, disappearing outside of the room for a moment. Ruby took deep breaths, trying to relax in between contractions. She heard some shuffling outside the bedroom before Archie reappeared with a chair. Shortly after, August appeared clutching a black leather bag that he quickly gave to his father.

“Are you okay, Miss Ruby?” the boy asked with wide eyes. He was firmly planted in the doorway, and Ruby offered him a weak smile.

“Yes, Sweetheart, I’m okay—it’s only a little discomfort,” she tried to assure the worried boy. For all his bravado and mischief, she knew he could be quite sensitive. “I’ll be okay. We’ll have a new baby soon, you’ll see.”

Archie turned around in seat, the bag on his lap, and looked at his son. “Thank you, August. You’ve been a big help. Now I need you to keep the fire going strong in the main room, and I need you to stay on that side of the house, do you understand?”

August nodded solemnly before disappearing into the main room, and Archie rose to close the bedroom door behind him. He lit the lamp beside Ruby’s bed and sat down on his chair, rummaging through his bag to find a funny, hourglass shaped-tool.

Ruby’s breaths came heavy as she watched him work. First, he took her wrist and pulled out a pocket-watch, nodding to the watch-face as he counted to himself. Then, he lowered the blanket off of her stomach and pressed one side of the cone to her stomach, his ear pressed to the other side. All she could see was the top of his head, the curly amber hair looking so soft that a surge of emotion washed over Ruby and she had to stop herself from running her fingers through his hair.

Ruby quickly lost all concern for the closeness they were thrown into, grateful for his knowledge as the pain grew more and more intense. She couldn’t keep track of time as every fibre in her seemed to be on high alert, aware of nothing but the relentless pain that beat against her, and she soon felt like she’d passed whole days in this state, riding out each contraction and preparing for the next.

“You’re doing great,” Archie continued to say in his soothing tone, now from the end of the bed, as she whimpered and groaned through the pains. “The baby’s on its way, so I’m going to need you to follow that urge and _push_.”

Ruby took a deep breath and pushed with the next contraction, unable to think of anything but getting through the next few seconds, helpless to what her body was telling her to do. She held herself up slightly, every muscle working until the contraction passed, and she let herself relax against the pillow once more.

“I can see the head!” Archie said, wiping his brow with his forearm and glancing up at her, a grin spreading across his features.

“Really?” Ruby asked, breathless, holding herself up again.

Then, his expression dropped.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I think—I see the umbilical cord is wrapped around the neck,” Archie explained, reaching for his tools which were now just beside her legs on the bed. She thought she saw him grab something that looked like scissors.

“What do you mean? Is everything okay?” Ruby asked, panic seizing her as she fought to understand what was happening, her whole body tense as she huffed through the pain.

It took all her energy to follow Archie’s instructions, and she was only vaguely aware of what he was doing. She fought the urge to push as he worked, certain that she could not last much longer.

“Okay, Ruby, you can push now—push!” Archie cried, his voice sounding distant. Ruby grabbed the sheets tight in her fists and pushed as hard as she could, feeling like her whole body would surely split in two.

“He’s here—Ruby, he’s here,” Archie exclaimed, and Ruby collapsed on the bed. Then, she raised her head up, watching Archie at the end of the bed as he cared for a little bundle—her child.

She held her breath, waiting for the telltale sign of life, and fear gripped her when all she could hear was her own pulse pounding in her ears. She thought she could see worry etched across Archie’s brow, and she fought to stay calm.

“Archie, is everything okay? Archie!”

It seemed like whole years passed in the silence that fell until a baby’s cry filled the room and Ruby suddenly felt like she was lighter than air.

Archie stood up and brought the baby to Ruby as she reached for her child, and he gently placed the baby on her chest.

“Ruby, I’d like you to meet your son,” he said softly.

Ruby let out a sob as she looked into the face of her boy, squirming on her chest until she held him close.

“Hello, there,” she breathed as he quieted down. An ache in Ruby’s chest grew so strong she could hardly breathe, a love so intense washing over her that it could hardly be called such a mundane word.

“Welcome to the world, Peter Henry Smith.”


	22. Baby's First Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Peter quickly becomes part of the family and Archie reveals more about his past.

Ruby wasn’t sure how it all happened, but Archie managed to clean her and the baby up so August could come and meet the newest member of the Hopper family. The door opened slowly, and a crop of vibrant red hair poked into the room.

“It’s okay,” Ruby said with a chuckle. “You can come in.”

August slowly stepped past the doorway. As soon as he met Ruby’s eyes, he grinned, and rushed to the head of the bed.

“Careful,” Archie warned gently, standing behind his son and placing his hands on his shoulders.

“August, I’d like you to meet Peter Henry Smith… Hopper,” Ruby said softly, the baby now wrapped in a blanket and lying in her arms as she sat up, propped against the pillows. “For his father.”

“He sure is pink and wrinkly,” August commented. Archie squeezed the boy’s shoulders and Ruby laughed.

Archie bent down. “Well, you looked about the same when you were born,” he informed his son.

“Are you feeling better, Miss Ruby?”

Ruby smiled. “I am, thank you. Though I do feel pretty tired.” It was true, she was exhausted, but she was certain she’d never felt such joy in her life. Her son was safe and warm and healthy, and they were tucked into a fine bed together, with their family to watch over them. It was as if there was a warm glow hovering over them all.

She caught Archie’s eye and saw a peculiar look flit across his features, and she quickly returned her attention to August.

“That’s good,” the boy added, “’cause you were mooing louder than Flora when her calf was born.”

“August!” Archie chastised, though they all laughed.

Ruby dropped her gaze to her son, a pull like gravity itself between them. She marvelled at his tiny features, the little hands with fingers so delicate they took her breath away.

“Alright, August, we’d better leave Miss Ruby and the baby to get some rest,” Archie said from beside the bed, and Ruby was only vaguely aware of him leading his son out of the bedroom as she sank into her pillows and let her eyelids flutter closed before the door was even shut.

 

* * *

 

The next day or so passed by in a blur, with Ruby unsure of the hour. She was even more grateful than she’d realized she’d be to have Archie to take care of things, surprised by how tired she was—and how her body needed to heal.

When she’d awoke from her first rest, Archie wasn’t long in checking on her, and his warm smile made her chest light. Knowing him, he’d been poking his head into the bedroom to see that they were doing well.

“Hey,” he murmured when he realized she was awake, taking a ginger step inside the doorway. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” she assured him, sitting up as best she could against the pillows, holding the baby with one hand on her chest.

As if on cue, Peter started to squirm and fuss in protest at being disturbed.

Or, more accurately, a demand for food, as Archie seemed to sense.

“Do you want to see if he will nurse?” he asked gently, stepping beside the bed.

For a moment, Ruby felt a flush of embarrassment at the thought of exposing herself in front of Archie. Then again, he’d seen far more, and she remembered Mary Margaret had said that it could be difficult to get the baby to latch right away. “Mmhmm,” she said with a nod.

Indeed, it calmed Ruby’s nerves to have Archie’s words of encouragement and instruction to guide her. Soon, any concerns washed away as the baby latched on, his contented sucking filling the quiet of the room as Ruby watched in wonder.

 

* * *

 

Archie wasn’t sure where to look when Ruby began nursing the baby, once Peter was started. He let his gaze rest on her face beaming down at her son. She took no notice of him, which gave him a chance to let his own thoughts wander, as if to process all that had happened.

Her labour had been relatively quick, but there’d been a serious scare with the complication of the umbilical cord. He didn’t know of how much Ruby was aware, but he knew how quickly the situation could turn deadly if he couldn’t remove the cord from the infant’s neck. He’d seen it, in fact, and he shuddered to think how close baby Peter had come to being in real danger.

Thank goodness he’d thought to get his medical bag ready, having brought it in and placed under his bed a couple of weeks ago.

No, everything was fine—mother and child were healthy and happy and resting.

The sight of Ruby with her little one made his chest swell, his heart light to see her so overcome with joy. It was infectious.

“Would you like to hold him?” Ruby asked, pulling Archie from his thoughts.

“I, uh—of c-course,” Archie stuttered as Ruby gently laid the baby wrapped in blankets in his arms.

Archie’s breath hitched in his throat and tears pricked his eyes as he took in every detail of the newborn. It was hard to believe that a child could be so tiny, so vulnerable, and yet so perfectly formed. His heart felt like it would burst from his chest as he held little Peter close. The baby lifted his hand up slightly, and Archie slipped his pinky under the little fingers—almost microscopic under his own.

“Hi there, little one,” Archie breathed. “Your mommy is a brave woman, and she loves you so much. And so do I.”

Archie swallowed, realizing how true those words were. How was it possible to love somebody with such force that you’d only just met? It was overwhelming, and already Archie could sense the grief that awaited him when he’d have to say goodbye in a few short months.

No, not yet. For a little while, he could pretend.

 

* * *

 

The next few days passed by in a blur. Ruby was completely preoccupied with the baby, making sure he was feeding regularly and ensuring that he was wrapped in his diapers properly and warm in a multitude of layers. Archie kept the cabin warm and well-stocked with firewood, and he kept the three of them well-fed with buns and salted pork and some soups that had been prepared earlier.

It didn’t take long for Ruby to feel restless, cooped up in the little bedroom, however cozy, and soon she ventured out into the rest of the house, despite Archie’s protests. Truth be told, he didn’t protest much and instead agreed that it was good to be up and about if she felt up to it. Still, Ruby wasn’t good for much and spent most of the day in the rocking chair by the fire while Archie and August ran things. Even August took his turn preparing a meal or two while his pa was out in the barn, though Ruby made sure that he still had time for his studies.

In fact, the baby proved to be a help rather than a distraction for August in that way. The boy was eager to stay close to his baby brother and would explain to Peter what sums he was doing, or would read him whatever book he was working through.

“See, Peter, you gotta carry that one and then include it in the next column,” August would say aloud before sticking his tongue out slightly as he added his four-digit numbers together. Ruby had to bite back a smile to hear the sincerity in the boy’s tone, though the child he was instructing was barely able to make out specific sights or sounds, let alone words and concepts.

It became clear that some space between the two boys was wise, however. Archie moved August’s bed to the other side of the house with his cot, though Ruby wondered how the father and son had any room to move with the two beds crammed in such a small space. Still, it would at least mean that the nine-year-old could get some sleep instead of having to share a bedroom with a newborn who woke up every couple of hours for his feeding.

Though Ruby might have had her doubts about August’s reaction to the baby, she knew she didn’t have to worry about his father. Still, Ruby was surprised at how good Archie was with the baby, and how he spoiled her. It was almost enough to make her feel guilty, and she resolved to work twice as hard as soon as she was able.

Archie would keep the fire going in the hearth throughout the night, and Ruby quickly got into the habit of bringing the baby into the main room for his feedings, as long as he wasn’t too fussy. One night, after she awoke to his cries beside her bed, she gently lifted the infant from the wooden cradle and padded out to the warmth of the main room, sitting in the rocking chair in gestures that were already familiar.

She hummed to little Peter as he sucked greedily, and she rocked back and forth. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Archie coming from behind the blanket that divided his and August’s beds from the rest of the cabin.

“Hello,” Ruby greeted with a shy smile, tugging her shawl just enough to cover the top of the baby’s head.

“Hey,” Archie replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “How is he doing?”

“Oh, just fine—he’s a hungry little guy, is all.”

Archie let out a chuckle. “He’s a strong boy.” He put another log on the fire and pulled up a chair, taking a seat beside her as he faced the fire.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments while Peter continued to feed. When he was finished, Ruby adjusted her nightdress and hugged her shawl around her, shifting the baby in her arms so she could rock him back to sleep.

Her thoughts wandered over the last few days. Truth be told, she’d been so caught up in the baby that she had almost forgot about Archie’s big secret, and in the rare moments that she had remembered, she’d not been able to ask him more. Now, curiosity began to nibble at her. What else did she not know about this man who was technically her husband?

“You—you said you used to be a doctor,” Ruby said, her gaze fixed on the flames that danced and crackled before them. The question came out more like a statement, but she said no more.

She could hear Archie shifting in his seat beside her. “Yes.”

Clearly there was something painful hidden behind what he could not say, but Ruby felt like they’d been through too much together for her to not know everything she could about this man—or at least, what he was willing to share. Whatever it was, it must have something to do with his first wife.

“What… what happened?” she asked carefully as she continued to rock back and forth.

A long pause followed before Archie let out a deep sigh, and Ruby kept her gaze fixed on the hearth.

“I was a doctor, once upon a time. That in and of itself was a miracle. My parents were conmen, always travelling from town to town in our caravan of sorts. As a child, I would travel with them around the East coast, performing puppet shows and the like. But they weren’t content with the few coins we could scrape together from that, so they soon had me in the crowd, picking the pockets for any extra coins I could find. Even better if I could snatch a pocket watch or a ring or other fine jewelry. Then we’d eat like kings for a night or two.”

Ruby swallowed the lump that rose in her throat, unsure of what to do with this new information, but grateful that it spilled from him and eager to hear every detail. She didn’t dare look at him in case he decided to stop.

Luckily, he continued. “I hated it. I hated the lying and stealing, and the cold, wet nights. I wanted to help people, not cheat them. Sometimes, I would try to sneak away with another traveller family that we would camp with for a night, knowing they were good, hard-working folk. I never could get away with it, though. Not until I was a young man.

“I managed to finally get away from my parents and convince the druggist in town to let me work for him. I discovered that I enjoyed the medicine—and I had a knack for it, too. The details involved, memorizing the human body, helping to make people well.”

He paused and shifted in his seat, and Ruby dared to glance at him. She gave him a small smile in ways of encouragement, and he took a deep breath before he continued.

“Long story short, I was able to get in on a scholarship to train to be a doctor, and I was _thrilled._ I probably worked three times as hard as the other men, knowing that I would be thrown out at the first sign of trouble. And I did, it too—I graduated and got a job as a doctor in a small town outside of New York.

“For the first time, I was a respected part of the community—Dr. Hopper—and I was really making a difference. It wasn’t long until I met the Geppettos—this nice couple who had emmigrated from Italy. He was a carpenter—made the most beautiful things, though he supported his family by fixing fences and making plain furniture—a waste of his talent, but there it was. I became fast friends with them, this young and optimistic couple who were expecting their first child. Maybe I was drawn to them, knowing how cruel people could be to outsiders. Whatever the reason, we became a family of sorts, and of course I was there to deliver the child.” Archie smiled to himself. “It was in the middle of a heat wave smack dab in the middle of June. Of course he would come at a time like that.”

 _August._ Ruby’s brow furrowed as these seemingly disconnected pieces of the puzzle began to slide into place. She remembered the picture of the blonde woman, hidden away in the drawer in the bedroom.

“Everything went fine, and the next couple of years passed on uneventfully. Of course, being the only doctor in town was tiring, and you couldn’t always save everybody, but generally events took a turn for the better far more often that they went downhill.”

Ruby nodded along with his story, her chest already tight in anticipation of a tragedy she knew was about to unfold.

“Then, the town was hit hard by influenza,” Archie continued, his voice small. “I fought hard, but it came so fast and wiped out whole families. There was nothing I could do.” His tone was even, as if it was a distant story, and he stared unseeing into the hearth. “I tried to keep it from the Geppettos, but ultimately, there was nothing I could do.”

He took a gasp of a breath, and Ruby could hear the heartbreak in his voice as he continued, causing tears to spring to her eyes, and she held Peter tight in her arms.

“One day, they were fine, and then, seemingly, the next, they were gone, leaving a little three-year-old boy without his parents.”

Ruby felt a tear escape down her cheek, and she could see the tears welling in Archie’s eyes so that she had to look away.

“For all my training, I couldn’t save them. All my hard work, for nothing. And I’m not proud of it, but I was _mad_. Mad at a world that could be so unfair, mad at a God that would let such chaos reign when dishonest folk could go about their lives and truly kind-hearted people were cut down so quickly. But more than that, I felt such _guilt_ , as if I should have been able to save them. As if I had killed them myself.

“So, I quit—I vowed to never practice medicine again, and I took August with me and moved out west for a new start.” Ruby glanced back at Archie to see him looking at her, his eyes wet as he offered her a small smile. She let out a breath as he confirmed her suspicions, and for the first time she felt like she really knew Archibald Hopper.

“We were one of the first in Storybrooke,” he continued. “The town was eager to get farmers to settle, so land was cheap, and I was able to build a little life for us out here. David and Mary Margaret came shortly after me, and I was glad to have them as neighbours—especially for August’s sake.”

He held her gaze for a moment. “Life out here can be lonely sometimes.”

Ruby took a shuddering breath, her chest aching as she realized all that this man had been through. Not only had he built this successful homestead, but he had been a doctor before that? A self-made man, twice over?

And always by himself.

It was more than Ruby knew what to do with, and so, she simply reach out her hand and squeezed his arm.

He let out a nervous chuckle and looked away, though he placed his hand over hers for a moment. “I, uh—I’m sorry I never told you that before,” he said. “Not many people know—not even David and Mary Margaret. It’s usually not important, and it was so long ago. Although, I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“I understand,” Ruby said softly, her heart full. “Thank you, for—for telling me.”

They said no more, but sat for awhile in the warmth of the hearth as it burned down to embers, and Ruby was hit by the weight of what it meant to be chosen by a man like Archibald Hopper.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that big reveal was satisfying!! And if not... don't tell me. :P


	23. Ho Ro Mo Nighean Donn Bhoidheach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With new eyes, Ruby watches Archie slip into his role as Pa for the second time.

Perhaps the strangest feeling was rising with the light of a new day to a world that was completely unaware of how one’s view had shifted. And yet, it wasn’t by much—it was as if everything had tilted by the most miniscule degree, and yet it meant a world of change to Ruby.

Except, it didn’t. Archie was still the same man—but, somehow, _more._

Ruby had no time to dwell on her puzzling thoughts, however, as baby Peter quickly demanded her attention. Soon, she was preoccupied with countless other tasks, seeing to breakfast while keeping an eye on the infant in his cradle in the corner.

She smiled her greeting to Archie when he came in from doing the chores outside, and she called for August to be up and dressed. Archie stamped the snow from his boots and quickly took off his coat and scarf and hat before washing up at the basin. The sizzle of the bacon in the frying pan was followed by the mouthwatering aroma, and the happy bustle of the cabin filled Ruby with cheer. Peter began to cry in his cradle, and before Ruby could do so much as take the frying pan off the stovetop, Archie was at the baby’s side, lifting him up gently and cooing to him, rocking him in his arms as if he was his own pa.

Ruby allowed herself the luxury of a moment to watch the scene before she called everyone to the table, another day already begun.

 

* * *

 

One of the final members of the family—and Archie certainly would not have used those words, though Ruby knew the sentiment was there—to meet the new baby was Pongo. Archie was stern about his rule with keeping Pongo outside during the day, but it was easy to convince him to let the dog join them in the evenings after supper. To Ruby, the dog had been one of her first comforts when she lost Peter, and so she thought nothing of introducing her son to the wolf of a pet.

“Careful,” Archie couldn’t help but say as he sat at the table, but Ruby chuckled.

“He’s fine, really,” she insisted, lowering Peter in her arms as the dog edged closer to inspect the suspicious bundle.

Pongo began to sniff, his snout twitching as he glanced between Ruby and the bundle in her arms. His tail started to wag as Ruby smiled, and Peter cooed in his blanket as he stretched.

“Gentle—that’s right,” Ruby said softly, a giggle rising up as Pongo let out a dainty lick to the blanket. “Good boy,” she praised, petting the dog’s head with one hand as she held Peter close with her other arm.

Archie shook his head while August sat on the rug with the dog, his arm almost hidden in the long, dark fur. “Next thing you know, you’ll be taking the baby out to the barn to meet Flora, and then to the chicken coop.”

Ruby laughed. “Who’s to say I won’t?” she teased back, though they both knew it was far too cold to take the baby outside just yet. She sat back in her rocking chair, grateful for the warm hearth and the solid cabin that kept the chill away—along with the music of Archie’s fiddle and August’s stories.

Peter began to stir in her arms, his whimper quickly becoming a cry. “Sh-h-h-h, there, there,” she cooed, holding him up over her shoulder and patting his back. He was already changed and fed, so she knew he wasn’t hungry or wet.

“Do you know what would make him feel better, I dare say?” Ruby asked, looking over at Archie at the table. “If someone would play a lullaby on his fiddle.” Her gaze was direct and her grin was shameless.

Archie chuckled and pushed his chair back. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said with a playful groan. He stood up and crossed the room to pull out the instrument from its case. “I was done with my books, anyway.”

His bow moved over the strings with ease, his fingers swift as they changed positions, and everything in Ruby relaxed as she rocked back and forth in her chair, letting the music rise up and swirl around her and the baby. The melody was sweet, and yet, it held a hint of sadness. She continued to rub Peter’s back as he settled in her arms, and she smiled to see August lying against Pongo in front of the fireplace, shifting lower and lower.

Ruby realized she wasn’t as eager for spring to come as she would have thought, for it would rob them of the luxury of these lazy evenings.

 

* * *

 

She was not sorry for the milder weather, however, when it meant that the Nolans were able to visit before the end of the month. There was still a blanket of snow all around, though not so thick as it had been, so the men and the children were firmly instructed to keep themselves occupied outside while the women visited inside. Even little Leo, now one year old, was sent out with his Pa for a bit of fresh air in his woolen layers.

After the chaos of shuffling two families outdoors, Ruby was alone with Mary Margaret, and she quickly brought the baby from his crib to meet her dear friend.

“Oh, he’s precious!” Mary Margaret gushed as she took the baby from Ruby with the ease and care of a mother. “Oh, Ruby, he’s perfect.”

“I think so,” Ruby said with a chuckle as she brushed out her skirts and took a seat at the table alongside the other woman.

“And he’s three weeks old now?”

“That’s right. He’s already changed so much!”

“Well, he’s a fine size, if on the smaller side, but he’ll grow—won’t you? Won’t you?” She lowered her face to the baby’s as she repeated the last words.

Ruby grinned and sat back, enjoying a rare moment of rest. “Not too soon, I hope.”

“Oh, far too soon, let me assure you,” Mary Margaret replied as she gently rocked the baby side to side. “Leo’s already one and I still can’t believe it.”

“He looks so big!”

Mary Margaret nodded, glancing down to the baby and back to Ruby. “How was the birth? Archie told us a bit, but not much—you know how men are.”

“Oh, it was fine,” Ruby said with a nod, her hands clasped around her stomach as if by instinct. “Archie was amazing. He—well, helped everything go along.” Ruby thought that he probably remembered more than she did herself, but she didn’t say any more, and Mary Margaret didn’t prod further. Ruby didn’t trust herself not to say too much.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help, but it sounds like you did fine without me.”

Ruby simply smiled in return.

“Look at all that hair!” Mary Margaret remarked. “And so dark, just like his mama. Or was his pa dark too?”

Ruby leaned forward in her chair. “Oh, his pa had dark hair, too. About the same as mine, really. Dark, dark brown.”

She gazed down at her son in her friend’s arm, the little hazel eyes almost fixed on Mary Margaret’s face, though not quite. He was so like his pa, it made her heart hurt—but it was a blessing, too, to have a little bit of his namesake with her.

“I bet this little one has you thinking on his pa an awful lot,” Mary Margaret said softly, and Ruby blinked as she focused on her friend.

“I—I guess you’re right,” Ruby said, glancing down as she blinked away a tear before returning her gaze to her child. “Peter would have been so happy to have a son.” She twisted her hands over each other as emotion swelled in her chest—emotions she hadn’t named aloud, but had been swirling inside like a thick fog. “He—he would have been so proud.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret said softly. “That must be hard, too, to have that grief come up again.”

Ruby licked her lips. “It’s just—it can be tiring. I mean, I’m already running on a couple hours of sleep at best, and it can be exhausting to wonder if I should be happy or sad.”

Mary Margaret offered her a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay to be both. It’s okay to miss his pa while celebrating this new life that God has blessed you with. This baby is a testament to the love you and your husband shared, and nothing can take that away from you.”

Ruby let out a breath and inhaled deeply. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before.” She smiled and reached out to stroke the little head, soft as velvet, a tug at her heart like they were connected by a string.

After a pause, Mary Margaret continued. “I’m sure I can guess, but how is Archie with the new baby?”

Ruby grinned. “He’s so good. I could have sworn that—” Ruby held her tongue just in time, a flicker of panic seizing her. “I just mean that it must be coming back to him from when August was little. He’s a natural father.”

“Mmhmm,” Mary Margaret murmured as she picked up Peter, who had started to fuss, and held him up to her shoulder so she could pat his back. “He’s wonderful with children.”

Ruby nodded, her thoughts quickly wandering to the day or two before when she’d fallen asleep with Peter after his feeding, right while she was preparing supper. Sitting back in her rocking chair, enjoying the brief minute of peace, her eyelids felt heavy, her whole body relaxed, and she let her eyes close for a moment.

Suddenly, she awoke with a start and panicked when she realized her arms were empty.

Then she saw him—Archie rocking the baby in his arms and singing to him gently as he paced in front of the fireplace. He easily filled the space with his large frame, and yet, he was so gentle with the baby that it melted her heart. His voice was clear and soft, almost a whisper, and the tune was sweet. She didn’t understand the words he sung, but they washed over her like warm bathwater, and it seemed to calm Peter.

She watched them both, completely unnoticed by the man who was doting on her son. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat at the sight.

Remembering herself, she met Mary Margaret’s gaze and frowned at her friend who looked like she had something to ask but couldn’t quite bring herself to speak the words.

Finally, she asked, “And how is August?”

An easy answer. “I think he likes being a big brother,” Ruby said with a chuckle, no longer on her guard. “Sometimes, he wants to spend all his time with the baby and show him everything he knows. Other times, he doesn’t seem to care one whit—and then there are the times where he’ll conveniently remember his chores outside, but I can’t really blame him for needing some space from a crying infant.”

Mary Margaret laughed. “At least the weather is starting to warm up!” she added. “That’s good that he can have his own space. Emma was happy to have Leo around, but the poor thing had no choice but to be patient when the baby had his fits.”

Ruby smiled. “I imagine a little girl is much different than a boy who’s almost ten.”

“I imagine so,” Mary Margaret agreed. “And let me tell you, nothing was more adorable than the sight of David falling in love with his daughter—and to see her grow up and have her daddy wrapped around her little finger!” As soon as the words left her mouth, her face fell. “Though I guess your situation is different, if…” she trailed off before daring another question. “Are you still—if you don’t mind me asking—are you still planning to head back East with the next wagon train?” She stopped patting the baby’s back and kept her eyes fixed on Ruby.

Ruby’s stomach fell. “Oh, that’s still a ways off yet.” She shrugged off the question and gave Mary Margaret a weak smile. “The fields are still covered in snow,” she said as she stood up and took Peter from her friend.

“You’re right, of course,” Mary Margaret said cheerfully, and that was all they said of that, much to Ruby’s relief.

 

* * *

 

One night shortly after the Nolans’ visit, right before bed, Peter was fussing and refused to settle down. Ruby felt tears prick her eyes, her nerves rubbed raw and her whole body felt ready to collapse.

“Here, let me try,” Archie insisted, taking Peter from her arms.

“If you’re sure,” Ruby agreed, too tired to argue. She sank into the rocking chair while Archie paced in front of the fireplace, bouncing the baby in an attempt to soothe him.

Ruby watched from her chair, a small prick of guilt dulled by the weariness in her muscles.

The next thing she knew, she awoke, and she bolted upright.

“Oh, Archie, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to just leave you with him.”

“Sh-h-h-h-h, Ruby, it’s okay. He’s fine.” Archie’s smile spread from ear to ear, and even in the dim light of the hearth, she could see how his laugh lines crinkled around his eyes. “He’s asleep.”

Warmth washed over her, and Ruby relaxed. “Thank goodness,” she sighed, and then gave Archie a knowing smile as she sat back in the chair. “Thank you.”

Archie continued to sway in front of the fireplace as he sang to Peter, now still, in his arms. It was the same sweet song that Ruby had heard him sing earlier, and she tilted her head, as if trying to make him out. She realized she hadn’t heard Archie sing before—not before Peter’s arrival, at least. Prior to that, she had just heard him play his violin. He had a lovely voice, and he filled the words with emotion as he sang. It made something stir in her chest.

“That’s lovely,” she said softly as he met her gaze with another smile. “What does it mean?”

He stood in front of her, holding the baby. “The song? Oh, _Ho Ro Mo Nighean Donn Bhoidheach_. It’s gaelic—it means, ‘My little nut-brown maiden.’” He chuckled before adding, “I know it doesn’t quite fit, but it’s a song I learned as a boy with the travellers.”

Ruby grinned. “I should have known you had some Irish in you, Archie Hopper, with hair like that.” Her expression softened. “Would you sing some more?”

Archie nodded and sat down beside her, and as he faced the hearth, she thought she could see a hint of colour on his cheeks. He swallowed before he continued, his gaze fixed on Peter.

Ruby folded her hands over her stomach as she watched Archie sing with her son in his arms, the soft glow of the firelight dancing over them, the music wrapping around them all as if nothing could touch them in this little world.


	24. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The eventual arrival of spring means there are more plans to be made—though some are more unpleasant than others.

As if to contradict the plodding winter months, April arrived in the blink of an eye. The snow that had desperately clung to the hills in March was now helpless to the thaw of spring, and the “drip, drip, drip” of melting snow and ice surrounded the homestead. Even their quiet celebration of Easter did little to brighten their drab surroundings, though Ruby and Archie had perhaps had more fun hiding some treats around the cabin than August had finding them—which was saying quite a bit, given the boy’s exuberance.

After the thrill of the hunt, Ruby’s heart calmed in her chest as Archie read out the Easter story from his worn, leather Bible, and she mulled over his words and hid them away. The promise of new life after the devastation of death struck a chord with Ruby, and she was drawn to the light that shone from Archie’s eyes as he read. Though she’d heard the account many times before, there was something different about it this time—a truth that was very much alive. She tucked the thought away to revisit later, a seed buried within her to be watered. Somehow, this man before her brought the words to life in a way that the preacher back in Boston never could.

Still, there was very little time to give up to the luxury of contemplation, and Ruby was itching to start on the list of jobs that she and Archie had prepared, both of them waiting for the first warm day of spring. As it was, the fog rose up around the fields and the chill hung thick in the air, and though Ruby looked forward to stretching her legs soon, she was glad to keep busy indoors a little while longer.

While August saw to his chores outside—and, Ruby suspected, escaped to his tree house and swing if he wasn’t magnetically drawn into a mud puddle—Ruby and Archie sat at the table with their work. Ruby was busy with the mending pile that two boys easily kept supplied, while Archie went over his list of things he would need from town the next day. Peter was tucked in his cradle by Ruby’s side, and she absentmindedly rocked it with her foot.

“I imagine you’ll be gone most of the day?” Ruby asked, knowing that it had been a while since he’d made the trip to Storybrooke.

“Yes,” Archie replied. “You’ve finished your list of things? I noticed you’re running low on sugar. And do you need any more yarn or cloth?”

“Yes, thank you,” Ruby nodded towards the wooden counter. “It’s all there, and there’s a letter to post as well.” She had a letter written to her grandmother, telling her about Peter’s birth, and she’d been adding to it as the weeks passed to document the baby’s growth with no detail spared.

“Of course.” He gave her a small smile that crinkled his eyes, and it sent the familiar flutter off in Ruby’s chest.

After a pause, Archie spoke. “You—you know that I’ve been making arrangements for a doctor to come into town,” he said slowly, glancing down before meeting her gaze.

Ruby tried to hide her surprise at his bringing up the subject. “Mmhmm?”

“Well, we’ve finally got it settled—Dr. Percy Whale, an old schoolmate of Mr. Madden’s.” Archie said the name as if it was someone she should know.

“Oh?” Ruby asked as she pulled the needle and thread through the fabric of a shirt.

“Oh, right—Jefferson wasn’t at the harvest party. You’ll meet him soon, I imagine, perhaps at the gathering in June…” Archie trailed off, realizing along with Ruby that the wagon train would leave before then.

Ruby shifted in her seat, ignoring the prick in her chest as she kept her eyes fixed on the shirt in her hands. “I’d love to meet Mr. Madden. And that’s wonderful that Dr. Whale will be coming.”

She looked up to see Archie smile at her with a nod. “Yes, it will be a relief when he comes. Unfortunately, it won’t be for a few months yet, but at least that gives me some time to get things ready for him. It won’t be easy for a young man to leave the draws of the city, I’m sure, so I was hoping we could make things comfortable for him.”

Ruby had to bite back a smile at Archie calling the far-off doctor “a young man,” as if he, himself, was excluded from that description when he was nothing of the sort. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Archie leaned over his books and papers. “I can handle setting up the clinic for him,” he continued. “Mr. Gold has graciously offered the space next to his general store for a reduced rent. It includes an apartment above the office as well, so I wanted to ask you…” Archie trailed off as he searched Ruby’s eyes. “Perhaps you could help me with furnishing the living space appropriately?”

Ruby grinned. “Of course,” she answered brightly, her blood beating a little faster in her veins to be given a project—and, more than that, to be included in Archie’s plans. He had been mysterious for so long, but since Peter’s birth, it was like a veil had been lifted between them—and this was the final tug that wrenched it away completely. It meant all the more that Archie was the one performing the action.

“O-only if it’s not too much,” Archie added quickly. “I know you’re busy with the baby, and there will be more and more to get done, now that the weather is warming up.”

“Archie, I’d love to,” Ruby assured him, leaning over the table and meeting his gaze. “Besides,” she added, sitting back in her chair, “who knows better than I the hospitality of Storybrooke?”

Archie chuckled. “I hope that’s true.”

Ruby took a deep breath, her hands still with her sewing resting on her lap while she took in all of the papers before her husband. She knew he was about to start planting the fields, and yet, he had taken on this task for the sake of the town without a single thought.

She placed her sewing back in the basket, no longer of much import, and reached across the table at some papers. Archie handed some over to her, and she scanned over his notes made in his neat hand.

“I know it’s not much, but there’s a small amount of money to use for furnishings,” Archie told her. “The office on the main street is plain clapboard—but it’s tidy. I don’t know if the apartment above is plastered and papered or not.”

Ruby nodded. “It would be nice to make the office homey for patients, of course, but perhaps the money would be best spent to make a cozy living space for the doctor.” She glanced at Archie to see him nodding his approval.

Ruby smiled, excitement building in her chest as she looked over the figures. “I’m sure there’s an inexpensive paper pattern that could brighten up the room, and some curtains would be simple enough—I could make some for both the office and the apartment.”

She looked up at Archie to see him giving her a peculiar smile. “What is it?” she asked, furrowing her brow at him.

“Oh, nothing,” he said with a shake of his head. “Only, if it was left to me, the poor bachelor would be left with a simple bed, and possibly a table and chair if he was lucky.”

Ruby laughed. “Yes, well, the state of this cabin wasn’t much better when I first arrived,” she teased. The words hit a chord more deeply than she intended, and their expressions softened as they looked at one another.

Archie cleared his throat. “Yes, we’ve, uh… certainly benefitted from your instruction,” he said with a smile. He nodded to the papers in front of her. “There’s no hurry,” he assured her. “There will be plenty of other trips to town, and perhaps one week you can come with me to Storybrooke to see the place.”

Ruby smiled at him, thoughtful. “I’d like that.”

Ruby retrieved an extra pen and began making her notes across from Archie, both of them bent over their plans.

After a pause, Archie cleared his throat, and Ruby glanced up. He remained huddled over his work, his gaze fixed downwards when he finally spoke. “I hope—I hope this all… well, that you don’t think less of me.” He only dared to look up after he’d finished speaking, and Ruby caught the pained look in his eyes.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

Archie looked away for a moment and licked his lips, trying to choose his words. “I just—it’s only that, I would hate to disappoint you—or, uh, the town—because I haven’t been the doctor when I could have done so much more.” He held her gaze, as if waiting for the inevitable chastisement.

Ruby exhaled slowly and her features relaxed. “Oh, Archie, I could never think less of you—especially for that.” She considered reaching out across the table but thought better of it and clenched her pen instead. “You’ve… you’ve done your time as a doctor, and now you’re helping your people in other ways—including bringing the new doctor here.” _And you’ve helped me_.

He offered her a small smile, still hesitant if not entirely unconvinced, but his eyes were warm and Ruby’s heart melted a little. If only he could see how much his kindness meant to those around him—how much he’d already done.

Ruby couldn’t form the words, however, and so she simply smiled back, praying that it was enough. Soon, the tightness in her chest lightened as they continued with their work, a contented silence falling around them.

The studious air was soon interrupted, however, when August burst in the main door, his teeth chattering and his lower half covered in mud, and the baby began to wail. For now, their plans would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

The next day saw an early start for Archie and August, as Archie decided to bring his son with him into Storybrooke. While the nine-year-old had been good with the baby overall, it was becoming clear that August was tiring of the infant. Archie dared not leave Ruby alone with both boys and risk an upset, especially when he would be away for most of the day. She would be more than preoccupied with one child.

He had put off the trip until well after the weather had cleared, for he hadn’t wanted to leave Ruby alone until she was settled with Peter. He still hated the idea of being away for a day, but he knew it was too much to ask of Mary Margaret to pull her away from her own family to keep Ruby company. Besides, Ruby would not stand for it, he knew, and he smiled to himself to picture the stamp of her foot and the scolding she would have given him if he even suggested it.

The sun had barely risen as father and son set off towards town, much like they had done when Ruby had first joined their family—much as they had done when it was just the two of them. August let large yawns escape as he rested against his father, without an attempt to cover them up, and Archie couldn’t help but chuckle. Then, a groan every time the wagon went over a bump, the ground either still rock-hard or else thawed into pure mud.

And yet, Archie wouldn’t trade the cold for anything, knowing that the warmer weather would bring Ruby’s departure ever-closer.

Their first stop when they rolled into town was _Gold’s General Store_. August eagerly hopped out of the wagon and rushed inside, sending off the cheerful “ding” of the bell above the door while his pa hitched up Cleo outside.

When Archie entered, August was at the front counter with Mr. and Mrs. Gold. Belle was in the midst of preparing August a hot chocolate, adding some creamy milk to the chocolate she had melted on the stove, and Archie shook his head.

“Archie!” Belle greeted as she slid the mug over the counter to the boy. “It’s so good to see you after all this time.”

Her husband nodded his more restrained greeting with a “Hello, Mr. Hopper,” in his Scottish accent.

Archie removed his hat and nodded to the couple behind the counter. “Don’t drink that too fast, son,” he reminded August as he placed a hand on his back. “And did you thanks Mrs. Gold?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gold,” August chirped, standing on his tiptoes with a mustache of chocolate across his upper lip, and Archie grabbed August’s hat still on his head.

“You’re very welcome, August,” Belle said seriously, though with her usual warmth. She quickly turned her attention to Archie. “And how are the Hoppers? Is there a new addition to your family by now?” She let out a bounce of excitement on the last question.

Archie grinned, unable to contain himself. “Yes—March the seventh, Ruby had a little boy. Peter Henry Smith Hopper. Both mother and baby are doing very well.”

“Oh, that’s quite a big name for a small boy! And over a month old, now.”

Archie nodded, noticing the look Belle flashed her husband.

Mr. Gold simply nodded and said more evenly, “Congratulations, Mr. Hopper.”

“Thank you,” Archie replied. He pulled out his papers from inside his coat with a glance to his son beside him. August was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his gaze wandering around the store, his empty mug in front of him, utterly unimpressed by the subject.

Before Archie could say anything, Mr. Gold leaned closer to the boy over the counter. “Neal is just out back with his chores, but I’m sure he’d love some help. Do you want to go check on him?”

August glanced up at his pa for the okay. When Archie nodded, August turned back to Mr. Gold and gave him a shy smile. “Yes, please.”

Mr. Gold nodded behind him, and August rushed around the counter and disappeared to the back. Belle chuckled as the redhead rushed past her, and she squeezed her husband’s arm before turning her attention back to Archie.

Ignoring the list in his hands, Belle asked, “And how is Ruby doing?”

“Oh, she’s doing well—very well, all things considered. She was up and about quite quickly.”

“That’s wonderful!” Belle exclaimed. “Is she up to having visitors? I mean, it’s already been a month, but one never knows.”

Archie nodded. “Yes, I think she’d like—it would be so nice if you’re able to come out our way.” The roads could still be difficult, but the distance crossed would make a visit from her friend even more special to Ruby, he was certain.

“Of course I will,” Belle assured him.

Mr. Gold cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, nodding to the list still in Archie’s grasp. “When you’re done here, I’d be happy to let you in next door if you’d like.”

Archie nodded his thanks.

“Congratulations again, Mr. Hopper.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

And with that, the stern Scotsman disappeared into his living quarters behind the store, leaving Belle and Archie to the business of the day.

 

* * *

 

After a morning spent organizing and loading his purchases into the wagon—and placing orders for things not currently in stock—Archie and August enjoyed a lunch at the chophouse across the street. It wasn’t generally the place to take little boys, but the crowd wasn’t too rowdy in the middle of the day, and it was a great treat for the nine-year-old even though Belle had already spoiled him with a few sweets to take with him. Archie just shook his head with a chuckle.

“Neal’s so lucky!” August had exclaimed, stuffing his brightly-coloured striped sticks into his pockets. “He gets to live with all this candy.”

“Don’t get jealous too quickly,” Archie warned. “He doesn’t get to eat them all the time. Besides, you should not envy what others have.” He gave his son a stern look, a silent reminder that the treats had better stay in his pockets until after their meal.

The restaurant seemed to distract August, and he bounced in his seat, swinging his legs as he looked around at the various gentlemen also in attendance. Archie leaned over the table, sipping his coffee, his own thoughts wandering.

Even in April, the travellers were increasing in number, their little town on the edge of the frontier growing each year—or, bustling with more activity as the pioneers continued even farther west. Though Archie had been motivated by a pressing need in his eagerness for a doctor, the bustle around him made him think on the other necessities lacking in a growing town.

There was the doctor to come. David Nolan was the acting sheriff, but they’d need someone full-time, situated on the main street. A church was long overdue, and a pastor. He glanced down at his wedding ring, a fixture that had felt like it had been there for years rather than several months, and it made him recall the hastiness that had been forced upon Ruby to bury her husband and to marry himself the next day. While Archie didn’t regret it—far from it, in fact—he wished to save others from similar circumstances.

They’d just been blessed that their arrangement had worked so well. A lump rose in his throat and he washed it down with a swallow of coffee. “Arrangement” was such a cold word, and his heart was involved far more than it should be, he knew. He should make some inquiries before he and August left town.

Archie shook his head at himself and returned to his mental checklist. Storybrooke would have its doctor soon enough, but a pastor would be a great asset. A little church would need to be built, which would double as a schoolhouse. A teacher would naturally follow. There was the chophouse with some rooms for boarding, but Archie would far prefer a more respectable inn and restaurant.

Archie’s chest was tight at the thought, and he tried to ignore the feeling that, though he told himself it was for the rest of Storybrooke, he knew he was planning for a future—a family—that wasn’t his.

“What’s wrong, Pa?” August asked, frowning at him from across the table. In his fist was a bun smothered in jam, and the corners of his mouth were red and sticky.

Archie smiled. “Nothing,” he assured his son. “I was just thinking.”

August held Archie’s gaze for a moment before he shrugged and continued looking around.

For a moment, Archie couldn’t help but envy his son.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day passed quickly as Archie saw to the rest of his errands with his son in tow. He was easily kept from his thoughts with the busy-work as well as with the reunions with the townsfolk, both sides catching each other up on family news from the winter. August would proudly inform them that he had a new baby brother, and Archie would fill in the details, unable to keep the joy from rising in his chest. Yes, mother and son were doing very well, thank you, and yes, the baby was already a month old, and yes, it had been awhile since he’d been into town—and yes, wouldn’t it be lovely if you did come by for a visit? Every now and then, such conversations would include raised eyebrows at learning that Archibald Hopper was even married, let alone that he had a newborn son at home, and Archie would chuckle to himself, not bothering to explain more.

Both father and son were more than ready to leave Storybrooke behind and return to the comfort of the homestead as the sun began to dip in the sky. Unfortunately, the quiet ride left Archie alone with his thoughts all the more, especially with an exhausted nine-year-old beside him. Usually, it was a time Archie cherished for reflection and prayer. Today, it was an annoyance more than anything.

Archie relaxed once he reached the cabin and opened the door to see Ruby and Peter, safe and sound—Ruby at the oven, as busy as ever, and Peter sleeping in his cradle by the fire.

Ruby flashed her brilliant smile, her green eyes bright, and Archie had to calm his heartbeat. He crossed the room, resisting the strange urge to press his lips to her hair as he brushed past her, daring only to rest his hand on her back, before he checked on the baby. Peter was quiet as a mouse with his feathery eyelashes touching his little pink cheeks, his small chest rising and falling with each breath. The sight made Archie’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Ruby said with a chuckle, coming up behind him, giving Archie a start. “He’ll be crying for his supper soon enough. The boy has wasted no time in stretching his lungs.”

Archie grinned. “He’s a strong lad,” he replied. “I’ll be back—I’m just going to unhitch Cleo and get her settled in the barn.” Ruby nodded, and Archie rushed outside to see August playing with Pongo in the yard. The boy was now conveniently wide awake, and no help whatsoever, until reminded by his pa to start loading what he could into the house.

Soon, they were seated at the table, supper served and the goodies from town piled in the corner. Archie prayed the blessing over their meal, with little Peter now included, before a famished August tucked into his full plate.

Ruby laughed, her fork in hand. “Did you boys not eat in town?” she teased before throwing a glance to Archie. “What did you do for lunch?”

“We ate at the restaurant,” August mumbled, cheeks full, and he swallowed with a sheepish smile after receiving a chastisement in the form of his father clearing his throat. “Sorry, Pa.” He turned back to Ruby, eager to tell her all about it. “We had steaks, and potatoes, and gravy, and there were biscuits and jam!”

“That sounds like fun,” Ruby replied before taking a bite.

“We had a treat,” Archie added firmly. “The town is already getting busy now that we’re well into spring. The chophouse isn’t usually too rowdy yet, but it was more full than I’d expected.”

“Yeah, it was great!” August chimed in. “And we saw the Golds and I got to play with Neal, and later pa asked about tickets and we went to the new doctor’s office. It’s pretty empty right now.”

Archie swallowed when he saw Ruby perk up at the mention of tickets. “I, uh, I inquired about the schedule for the wagon train,” he explained, ice forming in his stomach. “M-maybe we can talk more later, but I just thought I’d find out what I could—in case you wanted to know.”

Ruby rested her fork on her plate and paused before she nodded, and Archie longed to know what she was thinking.

“You saw Mr. and Mrs. Gold?” she asked brightly after a moment. “How are they?”

Archie relaxed slightly, grateful when August filled the silence by describing his time with Neal. She smiled along, taking in his story with questions of her own, before she turned to Archie. “And how is Belle?”

Archie smiled, remembering the time she’d spent with Belle at the harvest party what seemed like ages ago. “She’s doing well,” he told her. “She was excited to hear about you and Peter, and she wants to visit soon. I told her you’d like that.”

"Oh, that would be lovely!” Ruby exclaimed, and Archie felt his pulse quicken as the comment about the wagon train seemed to be forgotten.

“Yes, well, I should warn you, there might be some other visits as well,” he added, his tone playfully serious. “I may have bumped into a few neighbours and told them your good news.”

Ruby’s smile was genuine. “That would be nice to have visitors,” she assured him.

“Yeah, Pa wouldn’t stop talking!” August exclaimed, and Ruby’s laugh rang through the little room.

“Yes, and I see someone who still has some beans to finish on his plate,” Archie reminded the boy with mock seriousness.

Ruby chuckled and leaned closer to August. “It’s not nice to tattle on your pa—at least not while we’re right in front of him.”

August nodded, his mouth full of pickled beans.

“Yes, well, I guess I’ll just take all of these nice packages back to my room and keep them with me, if this is the treatment I get.”

“No!” Ruby and August pleaded together, barely able to hide their giggles, and Archie grinned.

“Okay, we’ll be good,” Ruby promised, putting some salted pork on her fork. “Now what’s this I hear about the doctor’s office?”

Archie could see August open his mouth, so he jumped in. “I’ll answer this one, August. You need to finish up your vegetables, please.”

He continued, his focus now on Ruby. “Mr. Gold gave me a key to what will be the doctor’s office, so August and I took a look inside. Jefferson Madden—I think I’ve mentioned him?—stopped by with his daughter Grace. I told you that he suggested Dr. Whale when he heard about the plan—they knew each other back in university—and he’s already made a generous commitment to contributing to the doctor’s salary. Now he also wants to pay for the furnishing of the office.” Archie shook his head with a chuckle. “I said it was too much, but Jefferson insisted, so we may not have a choice in the matter.”

“That _is_ generous.”

Archie nodded. “I took some notes and made a rough sketch of the dimensions of the space so you can get an idea of what it’s like and what we’ll need. It’s in good shape—the clinic space is bare clapboard, but, with a good scrub, it will be clean and tidy. The apartment is plastered, so it will be easy enough to paper.”

“That sounds like a good start.”

“I hope so,” Archie replied. There was a lot to do, and he was glad that Ruby seemed excited to throw herself into another project. Besides, he couldn’t deny that it was far more fun to share this plan with her, and to work with her, rather than to keep it to himself.

It was easier to make those kinds of plans than it was bring up another subject that Archie had managed to brush past during dinner. He knew he needed to talk to Ruby about it, however, and so he took advantage of the quietness in the evening, after they’d put away the new supplies from town, when August had been sent to bed and Peter was settling after a late feeding.

Archie and Ruby sat together by the fire, Ruby in the rocking chair with the baby while Archie sat beside her in a kitchen chair, unusually idle with his hands empty. Without the bustle of a nine-year-old boy, Archie found his thoughts wandering to topics he’d tried to ignore earlier in the day.

The silence hung cozy around them, broken only by Ruby humming softly as she gazed into the hearth and Peter gurgling away as he punched and kicked the air in a burst of energy. Archie let his gaze linger on the sight of mother and child, the warm light basking over them, and Archie couldn’t help but wish he could keep this moment with him forever, as if he could stop the little hands of the clock from their _tick-tock, tick-tock._ Motherhood suited Ruby, and she glowed more than ever, despite the subtle shadows of weariness that came from caring for a newborn—especially one’s first. And yet, there was a peace surrounding her that shone more brightly, and Archie found she took his breath away more than ever.

Which was why he couldn’t shy away from his first question.

He licked his lips and took a deep breath, an ache already deep in his chest.

“I—I asked about the wagon train today,” he finally said, his voice surprisingly small. He cleared his throat before he continued. “The first trip leaves next week, and then there will be another a month later.”

Ruby turned to face him, and Archie wasn’t sure what he read in her expression. Her eyes widened slightly, but her thoughts were hidden in the flickering shadows of the hearth.

“I imagine it’s too soon for you to be travelling with Peter in a week, and besides, you’d need time to prepare,” Archie continued, his gaze fixed on hers before she looked away. “But there’s a train in the middle of May, and then another in June. After that, there’s nothing until the beginning of August, which is the last chance to head back east.”

Ruby stared unseeing into the fire, and Archie envied her composure. Oh, how he already wanted to turn back the clock and return to the fall when they’d have months ahead of them. Or, even better, if only he could somehow convince her to stay past August to have her and Peter with them for another winter.

Those departure dates haunted him, lined up like cruel puppeteers, engineering his fate and ready to snatch his family away from him.

_Lord, help me do the right thing._

“We made a bargain, and I intend to keep my promise to you,” Archie said, his voice more steady than he felt. “So, when you’re ready, I’ll buy the tickets for you and Peter to go back… home.”

Ruby stayed unnervingly still before she nodded slowly. “Peter’s too young to travel just yet,” she finally said, her jaw set. “And like you said, I’ll need more than a week to prepare. Besides, I said I’d help you get ready for the new doctor, and we’ve got the planting to do before then.”

Archie swallowed and let his gaze turn to the fireplace, his hands clasped over his stomach as he sank lower in his chair. “There is that.”

“So… not April. Maybe May.”

Archie’s heart sank. “May,” he repeated, the word feeling like cold steel between his teeth. Up until then, he’d somehow hoped that this time wouldn’t come, but the set date made it feel all the more real.

They had only weeks.


	25. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News travels fast, and soon it seems that all of Storybrooke is passing through the Hopper house to welcome the new baby.

Each new day grew warmer and warmer, adding a bounce to Ruby’s step, and she was quick to take advantage of the spring weather. The first day she decided to take Peter outside for a short walk around the homestead was like balm to her heart, the fresh air washing away the lethargy that lingered around the cabin.

Peter was well-wrapped in a blanket, and Ruby herself wore only a shawl as she stepped out and strolled around the yard, Pongo dancing at her heels, to give her son his first taste of the wider world. His eyes darted around, taking in every little movement, and Ruby beamed down at the bundle in her arms. “Have you ever seen a sky so blue?” she cooed, her voice bright.

She made her way to towards Archie and August by the chicken coop, banging away as they laid out wire around the wooden posts for a new fence. Archie stopped when he noticed them, and he stood up.

“Let’s see what your pa and big brother are up to, shall we?”

“Hey,” he said warmly, a raspy quality to his voice that made heat wash over her. His gaze was fixed on the baby, and he took his gloves off and stroked the soft head. Her heart skipped a beat to see the adoration in his blue eyes.

“How’s his first visit outside?” Archie asked, his eyes flitting between Ruby and Peter.

“Oh, just fine—I think he likes it better than the cabin already,” she teased, bouncing gently in place.

“It looks like it,” Archie replied. “Is he warm enough? Are you warm enough?” Archie placed his hand on the small of her back, and she could swear she felt her skin warm up from his touch through her dress.

“We’re just fine,” she assured him. She turned slightly towards August. “And what have you two been up to?”

Before he had a chance to answer, they caught sight of a wagon coming up the trail. Ruby squinted, finally recognizing the lone figure.

Pongo raced towards the wagon, barking in either a greeting or a warning, and August took off after him to say hello.

“Careful!” Archie called out with a chuckle.

As the wagon neared the house, Ruby realized it was Belle, and her heart lifted to see a friend.

“Welcome!” Ruby exclaimed, closing the distance between them as the other woman brought the wagon to a stop. Archie rushed forward to take the reins and to help Belle down.

“Oh, he’s so beautiful,” Belle gasped, barely taking any notice of Archie as her foot connected with the ground and she let go of his hand. She placed her hands on Ruby’s arms and beamed down at Peter. Ruby almost wondered if there was a hint of longing in her expression.

Then, Belle remembered herself and looked up at Ruby and Archie. “Hello!”

Ruby laughed. “Hello to you.”

Soon, they were inside enjoying little coffee cakes that Belle had brought along with tea and milk. Belle was quick to take Ruby up on her offer to hold the baby, and Ruby thought that the petite woman would burst from grinning and cooing to him.

“Land’s sakes, you’ll spoil him with all that attention,” Ruby teased before she took a sip of her tea.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Belle replied, her eyes fixed firmly on the baby.

“I hope not, because he’d be a lost cause with the way Archie dotes on him. August, too.”

“This little guy is lucky to have such a loving family,” Belle agreed, her attention still focused downwards on the bundle in her arms.

Ruby nodded and took a sip of her tea, a sudden ache under her ribs. She brushed the feeling aside without further examination. “So, what is the news in town? You must fill me in on everything.” Ruby’s eyes lit up to imagine the bustle of Storybrooke, such as it was, compared to the quiet homestead.

Belle finally looked up. “It’s getting busy already,” she told her friend, swaying slightly in her seat. “Remus says there might be more settlers coming through than ever before with everyone wanting to stake their claim on cheap land. He’s concerned about keeping law and order, but I think it would be wonderful to have some more families settled. Now that we’re getting a new doctor, a preacher and school and other such things can’t be far behind.”

Ruby smiled, trying to ignore the hint of sadness that came with the thought of Storybrooke’s future. “That would be wonderful, but it sounds like more than David could handle alone. Would there be someone else who would take over as a devoted sheriff?”

Belle sighed. “I don’t know.” She chuckled. “Cora Mills insists on bringing in someone she knows from back east, but Remus absolutely refuses.” She leaned closer to Ruby and added in a whisper, “Those two are both very stubborn and both very opinionated about how things should be done.”

“Yes, and both have the money to keep Storybrooke running, from what Archie says.” Ruby froze, realizing it was impolite to talk of such things, especially regarding Belle’s own husband, but she relaxed when Belle nodded emphatically.

“Cora likes to throw her weight around, but Remus stands up to her. Besides, Jefferson Madden has twice the fortune of the Mills’ family, much as Cora likes to forget it.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows, intrigued by this mysterious figure, though she knew enough of all personalities involved to suspect she trusted Mr. Gold and Mr. Madden far more than Mrs. Mills. “I don’t think I’ve met Mr. Madden,” she told Belle. “He’s been helping Archie hire the new doctor, though.” Ruby stopped herself from saying more, not daring to divest any confidential information. She had a feeling that the man didn’t want the true extent of his contribution to be discovered.

“Oh, that’s right—Jefferson and Grace were away for the Harvest Party, so you wouldn’t have met them,” Belle said. “I can’t remember if he settled here before or after the Mills family, but he came from a good family back east—or, well, a family with a name and money, anyway,” Belle added with a chuckle. “I don’t know much about his situation before he arrived, but he’s a widower with a young daughter and a sizeable family fortune. You wouldn’t know it from his demeanor, though, unlike a certain lady.” The twinkle in Belle’s eye told Ruby all that she needed to know, though Belle was tactful enough not to say more against Cora Mills. “He’s also the most eligible bachelor in Storybrooke, and you can bet Cora has tried to match her Regina up with Jefferson.” Belle shook her head. “But _that_ is a couple I cannot see well suited.”

“Regina seems sweet,” Ruby said, trying to picture the mother and daughter from her brief glimpses back in October.

“She is,” Belle replied with a hint of sadness. “It’s unfortunate that her mother seems determined to sabotage the poor girl’s chance at happiness.” She started and her hand flew to her mouth. “That was unkind,” she corrected herself.

“I won’t say anything,” Ruby assured her friend, half teasing. “Though I am glad to hear more about everyone. I have to admit, everything was a blur at the Harvest Party.”

Belle grinned. “Speaking of news from town, it sounds like there could be a wedding on the horizon. Young Ashley Boyd, who works for the Mills family, and Sean Herman have been sweet on each other for months. His father isn’t thrilled with the match, but I don’t think he’ll interfere, either.”

“I think I saw them dancing together at the party.”

“Yes, they’re drawn to each other like moths to a flame,” Belle chuckled. “Sean’s family is well established here—they’ve got a farm on the other side of town—though not quite as well-off as the Mills or the Maddens.” Belle shook her head. “You’d think we’re far enough out in the middle of nowhere for such things to be of no import, but some people…”

Ruby nodded, remembering the strict rules of society back in Boston. A housemaid would never be permitted to marry a gentleman’s son back east. “I do hope they find happiness together,” she said firmly. A different sort of pang hit her, remembering the intoxication she saw in the gazes of the couple, and she could feel the pull of young love.

Suddenly, Ruby imagined the look she saw in Archie’s eyes every so often. She shook her head at herself, dismissing the thought as quickly as it had come.

“Yes, so, there could be a wedding shortly,” Belle finished. “Perhaps it would be enough for the town to realize it’s high time we have a proper church and a preacher.”

Ruby smiled at the picture of a little white church with a bell standing on a hill overlooking the town—the perfect setting for a wedding, so unlike hers and Archie’s. Theirs had been such a solemn event, which she’d since learned was so unlike the man she’d married. She watched Belle for a moment, imagining her and her own husband in a joyous ceremony of their own, and she noticed the longing in the woman’s gaze focused downwards once more.

“Do I sense the pitter-patter of little feet in your future?” Ruby asked brightly. She was not prepared for the sad look that met her.

“I don’t know anymore,” Belle said, her features heavy for a moment before she gave Ruby a sad smile. “Remus and I would love to have children, but we’ve been trying, and… it may not happen for us.”

Ruby’s heart rose in her throat and she reached out and placed her hand on her friend’s arm. She looked at her son sleeping peacefully, and she couldn’t imagine the pain of not being able to have children, especially knowing the joy that Peter brought her.

Belle brightened, remembering herself. “It’s alright—God has blessed us with Neal, and I love him like my own son. It’s a small miracle that we found ourselves together at all, considering I wanted nothing to do with Remus when we were first married.”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “Really? But you two seem so happy together! I just assumed you’d married for love.”

Belle smiled. “We are now, but we didn’t start out that way.” She bit her lip and glanced past Ruby, as if collecting her thoughts before a long story, and Ruby shifted in her seat in anticipation. “Remus was settled here in Storybrooke when it wasn’t much more than a few shacks. My father and I came together, wanting a better life after my mother died. We had a few good years together, and we built a little homestead, but the work was hard, and the winter was harder.” Belle took a deep breath, and Ruby saw tears glisten in her eyes before she blinked them away. “My father died, and suddenly I was completely alone in the middle of a strange place. Not ideal for a young woman.”

Ruby nodded, her own grief and fear coming back to her.

“I was able to keep the farm going for a few months, but I knew it wasn’t sustainable, and I couldn’t afford help. That’s when Remus made me an offer. I needed a place to stay, and he needed help raising his son while he ran the store. I didn’t care for him then, thinking I knew how he ran his business. His manner was cold and abrupt, and I couldn’t imagine being married to such a man. I’d always imagined I’d be lucky enough to marry for love, like the women I read about in my books.

“It was clear I didn’t have much of a choice, however, so we married shortly before the following winter. Combining our lives wasn’t easy, but I loved being a step-mother to Neal, and it was a relief to have a roof over my head. I hated that Remus now owned my father’s land, but he gave me some freedoms, and eventually trusted me to oversee the letting of the homestead.

“After living side by side for months, I realized what kind of man Remus truly was. And one day, I realized that I cared for him—that I actually loved him. It wasn’t the kind of love that I expected would come, with fireworks and trumpets. It came on more quietly, a soft kind of love that slowly washed over me like the tide, until I was so far deep I didn’t know when it had begun.”

Ruby felt like her breath had been snatched away, and she inhaled deeply. This woman seemed so bright and happy, and Ruby had been convinced that she was deeply in love with her husband. And yet, her story was so similar to her own.

“I had no idea,” Ruby said softly, her mind racing to make sense of the emotions washing over her.

“Oh, it’s a happy story, I hope,” Belle added quickly, and Ruby nodded. “And there are, uh, plenty of ‘fireworks’ now. It’s just, sometimes things work out in unexpected ways.” She cooed down at the baby. “Like this little one.”

Belle’s story stayed with Ruby in the coming days, though she refused to put too much thought into it. She couldn’t decide if she found this new information comforting or disquieting, and she preferred to not discover the answer. Besides, Archie had already told her that he’d looked into the purchase of tickets for the wagon train. Why would he do that if he didn’t expect her to leave?

Her sadness for her friend who was denied the joy that she’d been blessed with, however, made Ruby even more grateful for what she had—both with baby Peter, and Archie and August. While she’d disliked Archie at first, it was only for what he was not. They had never felt actual animosity towards each other.

There was little time to dissect the situation, thankfully, as other visitors arrived in to meet the new baby—and the mysterious Mrs. Hopper, still unknown to most.

Mary Margaret brought Ashley Boyd for a visit, the latter particularly eager to see the new baby. Ruby was delighted to meet the young woman in person, though she seemed such a waif of a girl to be considering marriage. Ruby had to remind herself that she wasn’t much older when she and Peter had begun courting and making plans. Ruby could see the joy in Ashley’s eyes as they crept in to see the baby sleeping, the hopes that the girl already nurtured, to have a family of her own with her love. It raised Ruby’s own spirits, and she hoped she’d be able to attend the inevitable wedding.

In the midst of the visits, Archie would dutifully check in with her, though he knew enough not to intrude on the women-folk. He would simply bring in some more firewood or place another log on the hearth, or sometimes bring in a pail of fresh water from the well. He’d always pause to see that the baby was doing fine, beaming at the little boy in a way that would make Ruby’s heart catch in her chest. Then, with a gentle pat to her back or a squeeze of her shoulder, he was gone, leaving Ruby to continue with her guest.

“He’s so good with him,” Ruby gushed. She thought she saw Mary Margaret’s eyebrows rise in surprise, but the woman made no further comment, and Ruby quickly forgot her friend’s strange reaction.

Miss Merriweather also dropped by, introducing herself with such warmth that Ruby felt they’d been friends for years. Her plump figure, dressed all in blue, and her pink cheeks, made more round by being always formed in a smile, made Ruby instantly relax, and the way she calmed Peter’s fussing was nothing short of miraculous.

“Just a little bit of molasses and water should do the trick,” she told Ruby. She stirred the mixture in a cup and dipped some of it on her finger before placing it on the baby’s mouth. “Not much, mind you.” He immediately began sucking, and Ruby sat back in her chair in relief.

Archie had come in at that moment, as if he could sense Peter’s cries from outside. “Is everything alright?” he asked as he removed his hat.

“Oh, just peachy,” Miss Merriweather cooed. “You’ve got yourself a fine boy, Mr. Hopper.”

Archie grinned like a proud father. “Yes, but only because he takes after his mother.”

Ruby chuckled, neither of them explaining anything further to the older woman, though she caught a twinkle in the lady’s eye. After Archie left, Miss Merriweather gave Ruby a wink. “That’s a fine man you’ve managed to catch,” she said with a knowing tone. “It’s not just any woman that could attract Archibald Hopper.”

Ruby smiled. “I’m a very lucky woman,” she agreed, not wanting to explain that she’d be gone before summer. She didn’t want to think about it, and there was something appealing in the little picture that Miss Merriweather painted of the two of them.

Though very different in temperament, Ruby felt like she had her granny with her for the short visit, and her heart sank when it was time to say goodbye. Ruby stood in the doorway with Peter in her arms and watched Archie help the woman into her wagon. His arms were strong and steady, his movements gentle as he saw her settled, and he accepted the woman’s chattering good-naturedly before waving her off.

Archie grinned at Ruby as he made his way across the yard and joined her at the door. “I hope she wasn’t too overbearing,” he apologized. “She, uh… she’s been trying to—well, marry me off for awhile.” Ruby thought she noticed his ears flush pink.

“Not at all,” Ruby assured him. “Although she kept you occupied.” She nodded towards the yard. “What was she saying?”

“Oh nothing,” he said quickly. “Just that she was trying to see that Sean and Ashley’s betrothal becomes official.” He shrugged. “She means well.”

Ruby grinned. “Well, I think she’s sweet.”

It didn’t take long for Ruby to feel like she’d seen all of the women in Storybrooke come through her door, and she was grateful for the quiet when it finally came, taking advantage of the break to catch up on her baking. August had made himself scarce, keeping a safe distance from all the instructions and pinched cheeks that loomed with the presence of so many women, and he stayed outside with his pa in the barn. Ruby didn’t mind—there was plenty of time to catch him up on his schoolwork, and the boy deserved some fresh air after a long winter.

Ruby was up to her elbows in flour, hunched over the table as she kneaded the dough, when Archie swung open the front door. “We’ve got another visitor,” he explained, panting slightly, and Ruby frowned at his expression.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, brushing her hair from her face with her forearm and stepping towards him.

“It’s Mrs. Mills,” he said in hushed tones, and Ruby could see the woman and her daughter over Archie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Ruby would have laughed if she could have made out the extent to which he was teasing her and how much he was serious. As it was, he seemed to be more serious than anything else.

There was time for one last glance between them before Archie pivoted on his heel and closed the door, greeting Mrs. and Miss Mills to give Ruby a few extra seconds to clean up. She yanked off her apron and threw it in the corner before she rushed to the basin to wash the flour off her hands and arms. She did what she could to brush the flour off the table after she moved the dough to the counter, but it was a hopeless cause. She just prayed she didn’t have any flour on her face as she tucked any stray hair behind her ears and smoothed out her skirts. Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have cared, but she had a feeling that Mrs. Mills expected perfection, and it was easier to at least be seen making an attempt.

Ruby took a deep breath to calm her nerves, all the while aware of her own foolishness. The door opened slowly, and the first thing Ruby heard was Archie’s warm voice.

“Please, come have a seat,” he offered, leading them inside. He met Ruby’s gaze and crossed the room to stand beside her, and Ruby clasped her hands together in front of her.

Archie placed his hand on Ruby’s back. “Mrs. Mills—Regina—I’d like you to meet my wife, Mrs. Ruby Hopper.”

Ruby took in the sight that was the woman in front of her, dressed in deep purples and black, as if she was in mourning. Her skirts took up most of the doorway, the style so voluminous that it hadn’t been in fashion in Boston for a few years. Her expression was stern, and Ruby dropped her gaze and gave a lame curtsey, unsure of what else to do.

“Hello,” she greeted, meeting the daughter’s gaze. Regina offered a shy smile, and Ruby felt her smile widen in genuine warmth. The girl looked to be about the same age as herself, and dressed in a simple light blue dress—though the stitching and trim boasted of the owner’s elegance.

“Please, do have a seat,” Ruby echoed Archie’s earlier invitation. “Would you like some tea? I’ll just put the kettle on.”

She saw Archie reach for the tin of cakes in the cupboard and place them on a plate before bringing them to the table. Much to her surprise, he took a seat beside her place, and warmth bloomed in her chest.

“We wanted to come by and offer our congratulations in person,” Cora said in her cold drawl. “On the baby, that is.” Somehow, she managed to make even that offering sound threatening.

“Thank you very much,” Ruby said from the stove as she poured the boiling water into the teapot.

“That’s very… kind,” Archie replied.

Ruby brought the tea things to the table and took her seat beside Archie, and Archie placed a protective arm across the back of her chair.

“Is the child present?” Cora asked.

Ruby threw a glance to Archie before looking at Cora. “He’s sleeping right now, so it’s best not to wake him,” she explained. “But I’m sure there will be other times.”

Regina nodded with a smile, and Ruby thought she saw disappointment flitter across her features, though she dared not reveal it. He posture was as straight as her mother’s, and Ruby’s heart went out to her as she threw timid glances to her mother as if expecting to be chastised at any moment.

The tea was soon ready to be poured, and silence hung thick in the air as Ruby served everyone. She noticed that Cora and Regina accepted the tea, but Regina was told in no uncertain terms in the form of a glare from her mother that there would be no cake.

“And how do you find yourselves in Storybrooke?” Archie asked.

“Pleasant enough,” Cora replied, the _clink_ of china sounding as her cup connected with the saucer. “It is getting busy with new settlers arriving, though. We must be careful in who we let come into Storybrooke. We wouldn’t want an influx of widows and orphans, or cowboys, and the like.”

Ruby almost choked on her bite of cake, and she could feel Archie tensing beside her.

“Surely we want the town to be welcoming,” she said quickly. “I was met with great kindness here.”

“Yes, but I understand you will be leaving us shortly. Such a shame to take from charitable folks just to disappear.”

“Cora, I think—”

“Of course, you’re right,” Ruby cut in, and she could see a flicker of shock on Archie’s expression before he collected himself. “That’s why I’m helping my husband see that the new doctor in town is settled.”

“How generous,” Cora all but sneered.

“I’m only doing what little I can to repay the kindness of the people of Storybrooke,” Ruby replied, her voice honey-sweet as an idea began to form. “The leaders of the town have been particularly generous in their donations to the doctor’s salary, haven’t they, Darling?” She flashed Archie a smile and took his hand, ignoring the spark that flashed when skin met skin so intentionally, or the confusion that flickered across his face before he played along.

“Of course… Sweetheart.”

“Yes, Mr. Madden and Mr. Gold have cemented their place in the top of Storybrooke society, wouldn’t you agree? Though I’m sure they haven’t given as much as you have to the cause. A doctor would serve every resident of the town, and would also provide nothing but the best care for you and your daughter, should the need arise.”

Cora frowned and Regina froze, her eyes wide.

“Of course,” Cora agreed with a slow nod, and Ruby forced herself to keep a calm expression. “I have always meant to donate to this new doctor.”

“Excellent!” Ruby exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “And someone of your obvious standing would be able to provide double, no— _triple_ —the amount that even Mr. Madden himself is providing.”

“Yes,” the woman across from her said slowly.

“Wonderful! I’m glad it’s settled,” Ruby replied, adrenaline pumping through her veins. “I’m sure my husband can visit you to iron out the details, since I have no head for numbers or business. Now, can I offer you some more tea? And Regina, please do have some cake—I’d love to know what you think.”

After a visit that was no more than a quarter of an hour, Cora was quick to leave with her daughter in tow, her skirts rustling all the way. Archie closed the door after they’d left and let out a laugh.

“Now _that_ was something I never thought would happen!” he cried, grinning at her as he took both her arms in his grip. “To see the day that Cora Mills was left speechless after being coerced to donate to a public cause.”

Ruby grinned in equal measure. “I don’t know what it is about that woman, but something in me snapped! I couldn’t help it.”

“It was brilliant.” He met her gaze, and Ruby froze, highly aware of the small space between them. She forced her eyes not to drop to his lips.

“You amaze me, Mrs…. Ruby.”

Then, the spell was broken, and he dropped his arms at his sides and stepped back. Ruby offered him a small smile, more confused than ever.

“I do wish I could do something to help Regina, though,” Ruby added, her heart heavy as she recalled the sight of the timid woman. “She looks so trapped.”

“I know,” Archie agreed with a nod. “There’s so little that can be done, though, save for a decent marriage—and you can be sure that Cora will see to every detail, especially in that.”

Ruby sighed and hugged herself, feeling so helpless. She’d have to think of some way to show that woman that she was not alone.

 

* * *

 

Archie quickly realized there was nothing like a newborn baby to bring most of Storybrooke to his doorstep—or, rather, a certain half of the population, anyway.

It was a nice change of pace to visit with neighbours, but he kept a watchful eye on Ruby, ready to shuffle everyone away at the first sign of her growing weary. He needn’t have worried, however—she seemed to drink in the attention, basking in the company and delighting in the opportunity to meet everyone. And perhaps he, himself, was a little eager to show off the new baby, though he tried to keep to the background. Ruby and Peter were certainly the centre of attention, anyway.

All that being said, he was also more than happy to welcome the supper hour that ensured their home was theirs once more, free from visitors—which also drew his son back from wherever he’d been hiding.

The evening after Cora and Regina Mills’ visit, Ruby seemed particularly tired. She fed Peter by the fire as she did every evening, but her rocking soon slowed to a stop. Archie watched her eyelids flutter closed and her head droop, and he smiled to himself. He crossed the room from his seat and took the baby from her arms to try to give her a few moments of uninterrupted sleep.

August was already in bed, so Archie found himself alone with Peter. He beamed down at the infant, his heart swelling in his chest as he took in every tiny feature—his soft, dark hair, his delicate eyelashes, his little balled-up fists.

“Why don’t we let your mama rest for a bit, hmm?” he murmured, throwing a quick glance to Ruby to assure himself that she wouldn’t notice their absence before he made his way to the door. Before opening it, he made sure Peter was tightly wrapped in his blanket, safe from the slight chill of the spring evening.

As he stepped outside, he took in a deep breath of fresh air, and with one arm holding the baby, he carefully closed the door. He turned around and stepped off the small landing to see a canopy of stars above him. A familiar feeling of awe washed over him to see the million pinpricks of light in the inky black sky above. He held his breath, the world around them silent, save for the gentle hum of the crickets that held the promise of the warmer weather to come.

“Do you see all those stars, Peter?” Archie breathed, looking down at the baby whose gaze seemed fixed on the heavens, though he knew he couldn’t make out much at his young age. “They’re God’s handiwork—just like you. You were knit together in your mother’s womb, fearfully and wonderfully made. I hope you know that God loves you so much, and so does your mama.”

_And so do I._

The words caught in Archie’s throat as he held out his pinky finger to the fist that had wriggled out of the blanket. Little fingers wrapped around his own, so giant in comparison, and Archie breathed out slowly as emotion swelled in his chest.

Love washed over him, an emotion so powerful he almost thought his knees would buckle under the weight of it all, like the day he’d delivered the little miracle—a whole new life who was entirely dependent on him. Archie swayed gently in place, bouncing slightly as he cooed to the child, saying nothing in particular, and Peter didn’t seem to mind. Archie’s breath hitched in his throat as he kept his gaze fixed on the baby, so small in his arms. Though he was only just over a month old, Archie already felt like the boy had always been with them.

Archie ignored the little voice that warned him not to get too attached. Besides, it was a hopeless case anyway, so why worry about it tonight?

Archie grinned as a yawn escaped the baby in a little gasp, and Peter’s eyelids fluttered. “There, there,” Archie murmured. “Let’s get you back inside before your mama notices we’re gone.” He held the baby close and pressed a kiss to his hair before turning back to the house, his heart already lost to the bundle in his arms.


	26. A Time to Plant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days grow longer and Ruby and Archie distract themselves with the planting.

The stream of visitors finally slowed, and the departure of the first wagon train from Storybrooke came and went without much notice. Ruby drank in the warmer weather, relieved to be able to enjoy the fresh air. Baby Peter grew quickly, as well, stretching of the clothes that Ruby had made for his newborn-size. He also began to recognize things, his eyes focusing like they hadn’t before. Ruby was also thrilled at the first sign of a smile, and she called August over.

“Look, August, Peter smiled for the first time!”

“So?” August shrugged.

Ruby leaned over the baby on the table, her expression bright. “Come on, Peter, smile for your brother. Smile for your mama!”

The infant gurgled and kicked in response.

She laughed and picked him up, placing him on her shoulder so he could look around.

“Well hello there,” Archie cooed, coming up behind Ruby. “The world must look so different from way up here.” Ruby could smell the scent of him so close.

Along with their plans for the doctor’s office and apartment, Ruby enlisted Archie to help her plan the kitchen garden. They were quickly losing time to plant, and she was eager to begin. When Peter was safely asleep and August was outside, Archie laid out the seeds he’d purchased and explained to her what everything was, letting her decide what she wanted to plant and how much.

“They’re so small,” Ruby breathed, leaning over the table and running her fingers around the little piles.

“They’ll be hearty fruits and vegetables in no time,” Archie assured her. “Here are the lettuce seeds, and the carrots—here are beets, and potatoes, and tomatoes….”

Ruby nodded, a thrill rushing through her at the thought of helping these little seeds grow into robust plants that would serve their table—or maybe it was from the way Archie smiled at her. She felt like they knew each other more than ever, that it was easier and easier to talk to one another, and she realized how she enjoyed being in his company.

The next day, Ruby awoke to the sun streaming in through the windows, and she breathed a sigh of relief that there was not a cloud in sight—the perfect day to plant.

Later, when Peter was sleeping and August had retreated to the pond for a break, Archie and Ruby began the little garden a few feet away, off to the side of the house. It was already fenced in, and Archie had turned the earth to reveal the rich, dark soil.

Ruby carried the basket with the packets of seeds to the garden, following Archie, who had the hoe and spade ready to go and propped against the fence.

“Alright, Teacher, I’m ready to plant,” Ruby said, her voice light.

Archie looked over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow. “Teacher, huh?”

Ruby shrugged. “In this case at least.”

Archie chuckled. “I won’t get too cocky, then.” He put on his gloves and took the hoe in hand. “I’m going to go along and dig the trenches, and you can come behind me and drop the seeds evenly inside. Then we’ll cover them up, and water them, and that’s it—easy as pie.”

Ruby snorted. “Easy as pie?”

Archie turned around, his hands on his hips. “Yes, easy as pie. Are you teasing the teacher?”

Ruby bit her lip and shook her head as solemnly as she could. “No, sir.”

He walked to the other end of the garden before turning back to face her. “Why don’t you bring the first seed pack down here and we’ll start at this end.”

“Alright!” Ruby called, looking for the beet seeds. She’d already planned out exactly what would be in each row, and she thought her granny would be proud.

She made her way over to Archie, enjoying the sight of him in his element—his sleeves rolled up, his hat angled slightly, a bit of a tan starting on his muscular arms. They worked quickly together, with Archie digging a slight trench right before Ruby sprinkled the seeds in place. As soon as they fell, Archie would scoop up the dirt with one hand and gently pat it over the seeds.

“How do you plant your cornfields?” Ruby asked, knowing he couldn’t possibly do it by hand this way.

“Oh, I have machines for that,” Archie explained, shuffling along, bent over the earth as Ruby took even steps. “With Cleo’s help.”

They continued on their even path, row by row. Ruby couldn’t help but notice the flex of Archie’s muscles through his shirt as he bent over, working the earth, his shoulders broad and strong.

“Everything okay?” Archie asked, bringing Ruby’s focus back to the task at hand. She realized they were at the end of the last row.

“Umhmm,” she assured him. “I just—I think you missed something.”

“Where?” he glanced up at her and squinted before looking down at the soil.

“Right—there!” Ruby cried, giving him a strong shove with her hip before scurrying past the gate. She shut it closed and turned to see Archie struggling to get up.

Then, he was on his feet, his eyes alight with mischief as he raced towards her. He jumped over the fence and ran towards Ruby, and Ruby let out a squeal as she broke into a run.

Before she knew it, his arms were around her and she was helpless in his grasp. “Archie—Hopper!” she gasped, unable to catch her breath from laughing as she wriggled to break free, her feet in the air for a moment.

“Is that any way to treat a teacher?” Archie teased, his hands gripping hers as he strove to keep her in place.

Ruby felt pure delight bubble in her chest at the silliness of it all, acting like school children as the sun shone down on them. She fought and squirmed, desperate to get away, though she revelled in the feeling of his arms around her, the strength of his body pressed against hers. It was a lightness she hadn’t felt in ages.

“Let me—go!” she cried half-heartedly with a final yank of her arm and twist in her step. It was enough to throw off their balance, and they swayed before toppling to the ground.

Archie connected with the ground first with a groan, breaking their fall, and Ruby landed on top of him, her arms pinned between them.

They were both panting heavily, catching their breath and laughing as their eyes met. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest through her own. Ruby’s gaze fixed on Archie’s, his clear blue eyes searching hers, and they both grew serious. Ruby was suddenly very aware that she was lying flush atop him, their breaths mixed in the small space that separated their lips. For a flicker of a moment, Ruby felt the full danger she was in, the pull between them—and for a moment, she was completely helpless to the desire to close every inch of space between them, to give in to the heat rising in her core, to connect her lips with his. She could see the longing in his own eyes, mirroring her own, and it both thrilled and terrified her.

Then, something cold snapped in her, and she pushed herself off of him, scrambling to stand up.

“I’m—I’m sorry—I hear the baby,” Ruby mumbled, rushing to the house and brushing the dust off of her skirts, not daring to look back.

She rushed to the safety of the bedroom and peeked into the cradle to find Peter sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the world around him or his mother’s presence. Ruby shut the door and took a deep breath, her pulse beating wildly as she fought to make sense of her emotions.

Why on earth did he have such an effect on her?

 

* * *

 

After the incident, Ruby felt more distant from Archie than she’d felt in awhile. At first, she was careful to give him some space, at least as much as was possible in the little cabin. She didn’t want to lead him on and appear like she felt more than she did. She could imagine her grandmother’s chastisements from when she was younger, and she hoped she had not fallen into careless habits. Archie deserved so much better.

Soon enough, she forgot to keep her distance, however. She brightened in his presence, relaxed when he came near. And yet, she realized that he was on his guard, somehow. He was still kind and considerate, but she sensed that he was holding back—a word here, a gesture there. That veil, more thin than before, was raised between them again, and the regret stabbed at her like a shard of ice lodged under her ribcage.

The necessity of routine melted the ice slightly. Ruby was excited to join Archie on her first proper trip to town, though she fussed over the baby, wrapping him more snugly than was necessary at the end of April. Archie chuckled as he held Peter while Ruby climbed into the wagon. “I think you might have forgotten a layer,” he told her as he handed the baby to her.

If Ruby didn’t have her hands full, she would have swatted him. “I just wanted to be careful,” she explained.

The journey was longer than Ruby expected, but she didn’t mind. A different landscape was a welcome sight, and she didn’t even mind the bumps and jolts of the wagon. August was excited for the day trip, as well, and he and Ruby entertained each other while Archie kept silent.

The cluster of buildings that made up the town came into view, and Ruby’s heart leapt as if it was Boston itself. While she loved the wild nature of the frontier, there was something invigorating about the main street of Storybrooke—already bustling in its own way, such a contrast to the sleepy town Ruby remembered from when she’d arrived in September. Wagons drove down the street, ladies walked along the boardwalk of storefronts, men leaned against buildings with their hats tipped as they discussed the business of the day. As they drove past the chophouse, Ruby could hear loud chatter coming from inside.

Archie pulled Cleo up in front of Mr. Gold’s shop. “Woah, girl,” he said as he pulled on the reins. He turned to August. “Now, make sure you stay close by,” he instructed his son. “Miss Ruby has to care for Peter, and I don’t want you making any other concerns for her, okay?”

“Yes, Pa,” August mumbled.

Archie hopped down and tied Cleo up before hurrying over to take Peter from Ruby’s arms. Her hand met his, and she could feel the strength in his grip as he helped her down.

With Peter back in her arms, she followed Archie to the door beside Gold’s shop. “This is the doctor’s office,” Archie explained, pulling out the key and turning it in the lock.

The space was as Archie had described—small, but suitable. There was already a set of drawers along one wall, and a bench with a backrest. Ruby could see it placed close to the door for patients waiting their turn to see the good doctor.

“I thought we could section this back part off to make a separate room,” Archie said, gesturing to where a wall would be. “Then there could be some privacy.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Near the front door was a staircase, and Ruby followed Archie up to what would be the doctor’s living quarters. It was small, like the room below, and with one room, would only be suitable for a bachelor. Ruby hoped it would not be needed as long-term accommodations, but she knew she could make the space cozy.

“We’ll need some furniture, of course,” Archie said, stepping into the confined space, and August paced around the room. Ruby took it all in from the doorway with Peter resting on her shoulder.

“You weren’t exaggerating when you said it was small,” Ruby said with a chuckle. “The poor man will scarce have room for a bed and a table. We’ll have to have him over for some civilized meals, if it’s not too far a journey.” Ruby froze, realizing what she had said—realizing that she would not be around for any such meals.

Archie simply nodded.

“Look, Pa, I think I can see our house from here!” August cried, looking out the window at the back of the room. Archie swiftly crossed the room and joined his son at the window, giving Ruby a moment to collect herself.

“I think it’s too far away, Son, but it’s definitely just over that hill,” Ruby heard Archie say.

They spent some more time exploring while Ruby made mental notes about what she wanted to order from Mr. Gold and Belle. The apartment was far from spacious, but it had a generous amount of windows—an unexpected luxury. Ruby wanted to paper the room in a light colour—perhaps a meadow green—to take advantage of the light. Though it was not the fashion of the dark colours seen in Boston, she thought it would make the room feel more airy and welcoming. With some curtains on the windows, it would be a fine space for one of Storybrooke’s most respected citizens.

As they continued their examination of the office, returning downstairs to the main level, Ruby realized she missed Archie’s usual closeness. He would often brush past her with a hand on her shoulder, or stand behind her with his palm resting on her back.

Now, that was gone.

She shook her head at herself, reminding herself not to invent meanings where none were to be found.

A knock at the door made them all jump, and Archie rushed to see who the early patient was.

“Jefferson!” Archie exclaimed, opening the door to a young and very well-dressed man with a little girl beside him. She looked to be about the same age as Emma Nolan, if slightly younger. “Grace!”

Archie crouched down to be on eye level with the little girl. “How are you today?”

“Very well, thank you,” the little girl replied as she hugged her father’s leg.

“I thought I saw Cleo outside, so we came to see how preparations are going with the doctor’s office,” the man—Mr. Madden, Ruby presumed—explained as he took a step inside. “Tsk, tsk,” he continued with a mock frown as he looked around the room. “Archie, you’re going to have to do better than this if we’re to keep a doctor in Storybrooke. We’ll scare the poor man away with such primitive lodgings.” The serious expression on his features melted away, and he grinned.

Archie grinned back before he took a step towards Ruby. “Jefferson, I’d like you to meet my”—Ruby noticed the pause before he finished—“my wife, Ruby.” He gestured towards her but did no more. “Ruby, this is Mr. Jefferson Madden and his daughter, Grace.”

Ruby beamed at the man and the little girl. “Hello! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” The man was relatively young—younger than Archie, but older than herself. He was extremely well-dressed, with a richly-embroidered burgundy waistcoat underneath a well-tailored jacket, complete with a deep red cravat. He was very handsome, too, in the way that Peter had been handsome, with his dark brown hair and a little bit too much confidence. Ruby wondered how the man could still be single, though perhaps the loss of Grace’s mother was recent.

The little girl wore an elegant pink dress, complete with matching ribbons in her hair. Her colouring was not as dark as her father’s, but rather a light chestnut brown. All in all, she looked as pretty as a china doll, complete with the sweet smile she donned as her grip on Jefferson's leg relaxed slightly.

“Hello, Grace.” Ruby could see the girl’s eyes dart up to the baby, and she bent down. “This is Peter,” Ruby said, turning slightly so that Peter could see the little girl. Peter continued sucking on his first, and Grace giggled.

“We were just stopping in before we went to place our order with Mr. Gold,” Archie explained as Ruby stood up.

“Oh, good! I caught you at just the right time,” Jefferson replied. “I’ve opened an account for this space in particular, so make sure you include all orders for this office on that tab. Ah—” Jefferson added when Archie began to protest. “I insist—that’s the deal.”

Archie sighed with a smile. “Alright,” he agreed. “I promise, I’ll put it on the account.”

“Excellent,” Jefferson said with a self-satisfied nod before turning to Ruby. “And I’m sure the missus will hold him to that.”

Ruby felt a faint blush in spite of herself, and she shifted Peter from one shoulder to the other. “I’ll do my best.”

“Now then,” Jefferson said with a clap, bending down slightly as he looked at August and Grace, “I think we’ve earned ourselves a treat. Who wants a peppermint stick from Mr. Gold’s?”

“Yes, please!” August exclaimed, and Grace bounced in place.

With that, the little gathering traipsed next door to _Gold’s General Store_ , and Ruby managed to raise her brows at Archie as he locked the door.

“I know,” he mouthed with a smile.

Jefferson certainly was a larger-than-life-personality, but, Ruby decided as the two families placed their orders, she very much liked him. His charm was more than surface-level, and his questions to Ruby were genuine in their interest. Despite his fine clothes, worth more than most in Storybrooke could afford, there was a warmth about him—a sincerity that drew her in. She also learned a little more about how he knew the doctor that was coming, and Ruby sensed there was more to their connection than he let on. His eyes seemed to cloud over with a seriousness, a sadness that Ruby suspected he did not let himself feel often.

She’d have to ask Archie if he knew more.

 

* * *

 

The trip into town provided a much-needed respite from all that needed to be done on the homestead, but Archie wasted no time in throwing himself into the planting once he had all his seed and a couple new replacements for worn-out parts for his equipment. Ruby could see him at work in the field with Cleo from her view at the sink, and more than once she wished he wouldn’t push himself quite so hard. The sun beat down on him, and she could see the sweat gleaming from his forehead and arms as he paused once or twice to take his hat from his head and wipe his brow. Then, with a flick of the reins and a “ha!” to Cleo, the pair were off again, walking up and down the length of the field, digging tidy rows with the plough that would soon hold small seeds with the promise of a great harvest.

Ruby shook her head at his refusal to come in for lunch with her and August, but soon she found she enjoyed the break in the day when she would take his meal to him. Often, the short trek included Peter wrapped up tightly in a sash, held in place on her chest. The cuckoo clock would strike noon, and Ruby would head out the door, Peter gurgling away. With a quick stop to the pump for the fresh, icy water, mother and son then turned towards the field, a lunch basket on her arm, a water pail in hand.

Ruby would lift her hand to shield her eyes and her gaze would land on Archie as he spotted her from a distance. Cleo would be tugged to a stop—more than happy to obey—and Archie would rest the plough on the ground before joining Ruby and Peter under a nearby tree.

“I can’t say it’s anything special,” she would warn as she held the basket out to him. “Just another sandwich, and maybe a treat.” If she was feeling generous, she would include a biscuit with some butter and jam.

“Hey, I am not going to complain about lunch coming to me,” he would say with a chuckle, taking the basket and unwrapping the provisions carefully from the handkerchiefs. “Anything you bring me is delicious,” he assured her, his eyes shining in anticipation right before he took his first bite. Ruby couldn’t help but grin back as she gently laid the water pail on the ground beside him.

Such moments were brief, however, and Ruby realized the pang in her chest was disappointment at how he ate up quickly, bringing an end to their little respite together.

Their evenings, too, were far shorter than they had been. The sun extended the working hours more and more, and bedtime was early with the need to be rested for the day ahead. Then again, while she was reluctant to say good night to Archie, she knew she should be glad for him to get as much rest as he could, since he would otherwise brush aside any concern she showed for how hard he worked.

“I’m fine,” he would say for the countless time. “The planting is almost over, anyway. Just a few more days.”

Ruby had no choice but to smile and nod in agreement, taking note of the shadows under his eyes and the scruff along his jaw, and maybe offer him a cold drink. At least she could take care of everything inside the home and ensure, with August’s help, that the rest of the simple chores were done with the animals.

It was enough to keep her busier than ever, and she realized with a stab under her ribs that the days flew by much more quickly than she’d have liked. In fact, much to her surprise, she was annoyed that May was sprung upon them so soon. She was not ready to bid farewell to the comfort that the last couple of months had been for them all, for the warmer weather brought change closer and closer—a change for which she was less and less ready.

… A change that she would be happy to ignore.


	27. Fire!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Devastation strikes the Hopper homestead.

Early one morning, Ruby opened her eyes with a start to Archie shaking her.

“Ruby! Wake up! Wake _up!_ ”

Ruby bolted upright at the panic in is voice, her heart in her throat. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

“The barn. It’s on fire. I need you to stay here with the children while I get the animals out.”

Ruby barely had time to search Archie’s eyes before he raced out of the bedroom. She scrambled out of bed and rushed to the main door, throwing it open to a sight that made her stomach drop. To her horror, a thick cloud of black smoke billowed from the roof of the great structure, flames licking up its sides.

Archie looked so small as he yanked open the large wooden doors, and Ruby would have cried out for him to stop if she could.

“What’s wrong?” a small voice asked from behind her.

Ruby turned around and rushed over to August. She enveloped him in a hug before she leaned back on the balls of her feet, her grip tight on his arms.

“I need you to stay here with Peter, alright? Can you do that, as his big brother?”

August’s eyes widened, but he nodded with all seriousness. Ruby’s heart swelled to see him choose to be brave despite the fear in his eyes. She pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Stay inside with Peter,” Ruby instructed again, nudging him to the bedroom before turning towards the door. “I’m going to help your father.”

Still clad in her nightgown, Ruby rushed outside, trying to ignore the fear that pounded in her ears and clawed at her chest. She paused and scanned for Archie, letting out a little breath when he emerged from the barn as he herded Flora outside. She could see the intense heat by the way it morphed her view of him, as if rippling in a pool of water.

She felt her knees begin to buckle and she gripped the post of the porch. “God, please keep him safe,” she begged, her mouth dry as she offered the only little prayer she could muster. “Please, keep him safe.”

She repeated the phrase to herself as she spotted the well a few feet away. She knew Archie had told her to stay inside, but she couldn’t just sit and watch as he fought to save everything he’d worked so hard for.

 _Please, just come back to me. We can get other animals. Everything else can be replaced_.

Ruby could smell the acrid smoke even though she was yards away as the sickly stench of burning permeated the homestead. She grabbed the closest bucket she could find and began to fill it up, not caring how much of a difference it would make. When that bucket was filled, she raced to find another, and then another. She ran to fill up the water trough, though the heat singed her skin. All the while, she kept her eyes fixed on the barn as much as she could, the flames dancing higher and higher, the timber beams cracking.

_Archie, get out of there!_

The only thing that pulled Ruby from her trance was the sight of a lone rider on a horse racing towards them. In a moment, she could see it was David, and she ran to him as he barely brought the horse to a stop before he jumped off.

“David! The barn’s on fire!” she cried, barely able to form words.

“I saw. Where’s Archie?”

Ruby could feel hot tears streaming down her cheeks. “He’s inside.”

David gave a firm nod before he grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and dunked it in one of Ruby’s buckets. He tied it around his mouth as he strode towards the barn with even steps.

Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly feeling so dry that tears could no longer form. She couldn’t let David walk into danger as well—what good would it do to lose them both? But she couldn’t bring herself to stop him, either. She’d give anything to make sure Archie was okay.

The yard was in chaos, with animals rushing in all directions, Pongo racing around barking along with the moos of Flora and the terrified sounds of the other animals. As Ruby frantically filled every container she could find, ignoring the sting in her muscles, Archie and David rushed to save what they could—saddles and tack, tools, and—most important after the animals—the feed.

A rush sounded from the building as the frame shifted, and Ruby froze, fearing the worst.

_Get out!_

Archie and David emerged from inside, covering their mouths with their arms as the ran away. Ruby let out a gasp as hope bubbled up from deep within her, to see him in one piece.

He stumbled towards her, aided by David, and Ruby dunked the edge of her nightshirt in the cool water before rushing to meet him.

“Stay back! Get”— _cough_ —“get back—get back inside.”

He sank to the ground and Ruby threw herself in front of him, landing hard on her knees. She ripped at the edge of her nightshirt, tearing off the wet fabric to wipe at his brow and face as she cupped his cheek. “What were you thinking?” she cried, her pulse racing in both fear and joy in equal measure. He fell towards her, sinking his forehead onto her shoulder, and Ruby struggled to support his weight as she wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he panted as she stroked the back of his head, revelling in the warm weight of him. He was alive.

“Sh-h-h-h, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured. He leaned back to meet her gaze, and her hands fluttered over his cheeks and brushed his hair from his forehead. Their eyes locked, and Ruby felt a surge of emotion, unable to read what she saw in the blue depths of his gaze. Then, he turned his head quickly, overcome in a fit of coughing, and Ruby rubbed his back.

“Let’s get you inside,” she insisted, glancing up at David to help her. Archie stood as best he could, supported by Ruby and David on either side, and let them lead him to the house. Ruby jumped when she heard the _crack_ of splitting timber followed by the final _thud_ of the barn crashing to pieces, but she refused to look behind her as she put one foot in front of the other.

Archie shuffled along and fell into the nearest chair, once inside. Ruby barely noticed David tell her he was leaving to douse the rest of the fire as she searched Archie for any serious burns.

“Pa?” August whispered from the bedroom door.

Archie twisted in his chair and winced. “I’m okay, Son,” Archie assured him, though his voice was weak.

He leaned forward, panting heavily. “I have to make sure it’s out,” he told Ruby, trying to get up.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Ruby firmly replied. “David’s out there.”

“I need to make sure it’s out.”

“I’ll go help.”

“Ruby, I can’t let you—”

“August, Sweetheart, Peter’s okay, right?” Ruby turned to the boy in the doorway, keeping her hand pressed to Archie’s shoulder to ensure he didn’t move.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Come watch your pa and get a cloth with some water. I’m going to go help Uncle David.”

August moved to his new post and soon, Ruby and David were throwing the last of the pails of water on the mass of embers until they were nothing more than sizzling ash.

Ruby let her pail fall to the ground, staring at the pile of charred logs, traces of smoke rising in delicate curls. Her breaths came heavy as her body fought to drag air into her lungs, her legs and arms burning with exhaustion, and she almost missed David beside her.

She sank into him when he placed his arm around her shoulder.

“You did good,” he whispered with a squeeze, and Ruby let out a whimper, barely believing that it was truly over.

And yet, the rubble that stood before her was proof of the work that lay ahead.

Ruby let David lead her back to the house, numb to her surroundings in the eerie quiet.

“Is it out?” Archie asked as soon as they entered, his voice hoarse, and Ruby rushed to his side.

“It’s out,” she assured him, placing her hand on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“I saw the smoke from my place,” David explained, still panting to catch his breath, and Ruby only then realized how covered in soot he was. “I rushed over as soon as I saw.”

“Thank you,” Archie replied, sitting up straighter.

David looked from Ruby to Archie. “I’ll corral the animals into one of the paddocks before I go,” he said gesturing towards the door. Ruby was about to offer to help, but David raised his hand. “It’s fine—you stay here.”

Ruby simply nodded and closed the door behind him, turning her focus back to Archie.

“I’ll get some ointment for those hands,” she said, immediately crossing the room to the cupboard. “August, can you get some soap and water for me, please?”

Together, Ruby and August managed to bathe Archie’s raw palms. She noticed his lips were dry and cracked, also, and his face was still smeared with soot where August had wiped at his pa’s forehead. Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat at the sight of Archie so vulnerable. Though he’d escaped without any serious wounds, the threat of losing him to the inferno still gripped Ruby with such fear that she didn’t want to break away. She kept a cloth to his forehead or a hand to his cheek, just to reassure herself all was well.

“It’s not that bad,” Archie assured her with a tired smile as she finished wrapping his hands.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Ruby replied firmly, as if chastising a child. She let the corner of her mouth quirk upwards, though, despite the tears welling in her eyes, and she noticed Archie’s eyes crinkle in a faint version of his signature smile.

Concern creased his brow once more, and Ruby frowned.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“It’s not your fault,” Ruby murmured, wiping at his already-clean brow. The action had become a comfort for herself more than anything.

He shook his head gently, and Ruby held it in place.

“Your trunk—your books, your supplies—they were all lost in the fire.” His blue eyes searched her own, and emotion swelled in her chest.

“Oh, Archie, it doesn’t matter,” she replied firmly, a gentle smile spreading as tears pricked her eyes. “I can get more things.”

“I—you were supposed to go on the next wagon train,” he continued, his voice hoarse.

Ruby shook her head almost violently as something stabbed at her chest. “There’ll be other trains,” she replied with a crack in her voice. “We’ll talk about it later.”

He relaxed under her touch, and she tucked a curl behind his ear as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

The next step was convincing the patient that he needed to rest, and only with August and Ruby’s stubborn insistence did Archie finally let Ruby guide him to the bedroom.

“I’m filthy,” Archie groaned as he lay down.

“I’ll do laundry,” Ruby replied, unfazed. She’d make a new quilt, if it came down to it, though such a concern was the farthest thing from her mind. She let out a sigh of relief when Archie closed his eyes when his head hit the pillow.

It was only when Ruby was about to pick Peter up from his cradle that she realized the state she herself was in. Her nightdress was ruined, soaked and torn and stained black with ash and dirt, and she was in a downright immodest state. She cleaned up as best she could with the wash basin and threw on a clean outfit before she picked Peter up for his feeding, her eyelids heavy as she rocked.

The young mother was completely unaware that David poked his head into the cabin before he left, or that the nine-year-old made himself a meal of bread and jam while the rest of his family slept.

 

* * *

 

It took awhile for Ruby to fully process what had happened. Mary Margaret and David visited the next day to ensure that all was well—or as well as it could be. Archie walked the property with David and took stock of the damage while the women visited inside, and Ruby was grateful for the food her friend had brought with her, having been unable to do much in the way of cooking. It also helped to talk things through with someone whose experience and perspective calmed Ruby somewhat. The barn fire was devastating, and yet, they’d been spared from far greater damages—and Ruby was at a loss as to how to thank their dearest friends for their help.

Though much needed, the visit was short, and Ruby was quick to insist that Archie come back inside. He, in turn, insisted that he was fine, but it didn’t take long for him to concede to Ruby’s instruction and to stay seated by the fire after Mary Margaret and David had left.

One evening, Ruby watched Archie hunched over the table, the firelight flickering against his hair, making it appear more vibrant than usual as he furrowed his brow over his books. Everything had been in order for the spring—just in time for the planting—and then, it was gone.

“We’re lucky that this happened when it did,” Archie said, looking up to meet Ruby’s gaze as if he could read her thoughts. She started before she frowned at him. The dim light and the shadows cast by the lamp on the table accentuated the shadows under his eyes, and Ruby could feel the strain he was under, planning for his most important season after being left with only a fraction of his supplies.

“Lucky?” Ruby said, a crack in her voice.

Archie chuckled. “Well, not lucky—fortunate. Blessed.” He offered her a smile, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and Ruby could see how tired he was from the way his laugh lines barely appeared. “The planting was finished—I didn’t lose any seed. All of the livestock was spared. Most of the feed was lost, but David can take Flora for us for awhile and keep her fed in exchange for some milk. Cleo can graze on the spring growth—horses can graze on just about anything, anyways. We might have to sell the pig, but I think things will work out just fine.”

Ruby bit her tongue as tears pricked at her eyes. She said nothing and simply excused herself to put the baby to bed. She walked around the table behind Archie, taking in the form of a man who, though tested time and time again, showed great resolve in moving forward with more dignity and cheer than she could ever begin to imagine.

After tucking Peter snugly in his cradle, Ruby returned to the main room to find Archie asleep, his glasses on the table and his head resting on his arms over his books. Something tugged at her chest, and she grabbed a blanket and placed it around his shoulders, noticing the bare skin at the nape of his neck and the soft curls that were growing long at his temple. The storm of emotions that had raged within her over the last day beat against her ribs, and she was suddenly filled with the urge to brush her lips against his temple as he lay sleeping. She froze, her fingers tight around the blanket before she adjusted it around his broad shoulders and took a step back, quickly retreating to the safety of her bedroom.


	28. Revelations and a Barn Raising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie welcome their neighbours to help them rebuild after the barn fire.

The next day, Ruby glanced out the window and noticed Archie amidst the pile of rubble that had been the barn. With a quick check that Peter was still asleep, she poured a mug of coffee and, with her shawl wrapped around her, brought it out to him, careful to step over the piles of charred wood and nails.

“Thank you,” he murmured, a smile brightening his features as he reached out to take the cup from her. Ruby felt her heart lighten for a moment.

They stood together in the mid-day sun in silence as they looked around. A lump formed in Ruby’s throat as she caught a glimpse of metal hinges in a pile where her trunk had been.

She looked away quickly, tears welling up as she saw nothing but charred wood for yards around them.

“It won’t take too long to clear this all away,” Archie finally said, and Ruby fixed her gaze on him. He was looking around, squinting in the sun that the wide brim of his hat didn’t quite shield from his eyes .

“Oh?” Ruby asked quietly, hugging her shawl around herself despite the warm spring sun.

“Nah. I’ll have this cleared soon enough, and there’s already been lots of offers from neighbours to help me with the logging. In a couple of weeks or so, we’ll have enough timber for a barn raising, and before you know it, Cleo will have a roof over her head. If I can get a good feed supply, Flora will be back, too, and then we’ll have daily milk again.”

Ruby raised her hand to shield her eyes as she studied the man beside her. He calmly raised the cup to his lips and sipped with his gaze focused on the horizon, as if completely unaware of his surroundings. With his broad shoulders set, his features relaxed, he looked so sure of it all, as if he’d planned for this moment all along—as if it wasn’t a cruel trick of fate that such a good, hard-working man could lose so much in the blink of an eye. As if he hadn’t lost enough already.

It was enough to make Ruby want to scream.

“How can you be so calm about this?” she burst out, catching Archie’s attention so his gaze landed on her.

She took a deep breath, suddenly unable to keep her emotions at bay as the events of the last year bubbled to the surface, erupting all at once.

“How can you talk about a loving God who lets such bad things happen to decent, honest, hard-working folk? A God who would leave you with such terrible parents and take August’s parents away from him? How is that loving?!”

Ruby gasped, unable to say more as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Archie quickly placed his mug on the ground and closed the distance between them. “Oh, Ruby,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. Ruby jumped, startled at the contact as she glanced down to their joined hands before meeting his gaze. She thought she would find pity there, as if she was too young to understand. Instead, she saw only genuine care.

For a moment, her breath stilled in her chest.

“Come with me,” he said firmly, tugging at her hand as he led her out of the charred remains of the barn. They headed east, towards the hill where Ruby had seen Archie go by himself for his quiet times on Sundays, and sometimes other days. It was the same place she’d seen him when she’d followed him that day when she’d been lost in the blizzard.

Confused, she let him lead her to the large log that was on its side like a bench. He sat down, and she slowly sat down beside him, their hands still joined.

Ruby kept her gaze fixed on Archie as she saw him consider his words, his lips parted slightly before he finally spoke. “I know it’s hard,” he said slowly, his voice deep. “I know the pain can be so overwhelming that there are days when you feel like you can’t go on. But that—that doesn’t mean that God wanted it to happen, or that he’s not there.”

Ruby felt like she was frozen as Archie shifted beside her and squeezed her hand. He glanced down before meeting her gaze. “If—if I’m walking with August,” he started to explain. “If we’re walking together, and August falls down, he knows that I didn’t cause him to fall. But he also knows that I’m right there beside him, ready to pick him up and help him through the pain. He knows that his Pa loves him, and will carry him and help heal him. I’ll cry when he cries, and celebrate when all is well.”

Archie paused before he continued. “In all the moments of my life, through the good and the bad, God has always been with me. His—His unconditional love doesn’t mean that bad things won’t happen, or that He allows them to happen. It _does_ mean that He will never leave me. He’s our loving Father, always ready to carry us through the pain and heal the hurt, if we let Him. And just maybe, in the midst of that hurt, He will show us blessings beyond what we ever thought possible.”

Ruby let out a slow breath as his words struck something deep inside her. His eyes searched hers, and she had to look away as she felt tears well up once more. Such talk would have seemed so strange a few months ago, but Ruby knew that this man was living proof of this loving God to which he prayed—the God in which he placed all of his faith.

“I’m—I’m going to go back to the house, check on the children,” Archie said slowly, and Ruby looked over at him. “Would you like to stay here for a bit?”

Ruby simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He offered her a small smile of understanding and squeezed her hand before he stood up and made his way back to the cabin. Ruby returned her gaze before her to the awe-inspiring landscape of the wilderness—the trees that lined the valley, now budding with the promise of new life. The mountains in the distance, snow-capped and sparkling in the sunlight. The same wilderness that had taken her breath away when she’d arrived with Peter, filled with such different hopes and dreams.

A light breeze danced across her cheeks, the view in front of her so serene that Ruby felt the war within her all the more, a torrent of emotions swirling in stark contrast to the peaceful image before her.

Ruby sank to her knees as tears ran down her cheeks. “I miss him so much,” she gasped, images of her and Peter’s arrival flashing before her. For the first time since she could remember, she let herself cry freely. She cried for the loss of her husband, for his absence at the birth of their son. She cried for the fact that baby Peter would never know his father, and that Peter had never known his son.

She cried for August having lost his parents so young, and for Archie, and the hardship of growing up with such parents and grieving the loss of good friends. She cried for the loss of the barn and the food for the animals, which would take months to replenish.

She cried to purge herself of the fear she’d felt in how close she’d come to losing Archie, too.

And then, she blinked back the last of her tears, finally seeing the majestic tree line below her as she gulped at the clear air that refreshed the deepest parts of her. She thought of the blessing that Archie had been to her, coming into her life at her darkest hour and offering her refuge. She remembered the joy that lit up August’s face when he began to read his first book by himself, or when he’d presented his pa with his Christmas gift. She thought of the utter thrill of holding her newborn son in her arms, of being overwhelmed by love. She remembered the peace that radiated from Archie in the last few days, secure in the knowledge that everything would be alright.

“I want that,” Ruby breathed, looking out at nothing in particular. “It—it hurts so badly, but I’m ready for that peace.”

She held her breath, as if waiting for some heavenly reply. None came—at least, none in any audible form, but Ruby couldn’t deny that a warmth washed over her. For the first time in ages, she felt free from a burden she’d carried for so long, a burden she hadn’t even known she’d been carrying.

She stayed kneeling for a few more moments, taking in deep breaths as if to complete the renewal she’d undergone. She couldn’t explain it, but she somehow felt as if she could claim the promises that Archie had spoken of—that his God was becoming her own.

Finally, she stood and made her way back to the little cabin, wholly unconcerned about the challenges that lay ahead for her and her family. Everything would be okay.

 

* * *

 

If Archie noticed a change in her, he didn’t say anything. The routine of frontier life cared little for grand epiphanies, and yet, Ruby felt a happiness, a lightness that she hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. More than an exuberant kind of joy, it was a calm contentedness that seemed to surround her as she went about her busy days, working alongside Archie in the preparations for the doctor’s office and the barn-raising. Once or twice he mentioned the wagon train ticket, but Ruby used the busy-ness as an excuse to brush away such a discussion, barely aware that she’d already postponed the trip twice. She appreciated that he was true to his word, but in truth, she couldn’t bring herself to think about the topic. There was too much to be done, and surely they could talk about it later.

As the days grew warmer, the Hopper homestead saw a stream of men visit to help with the logging, cutting down the trees and preparing the timber that would ultimately become the new barn. Some faces Ruby recognized as she poured refreshments after an afternoon’s hard work, but many she didn’t. And yet, every man who came through seemed more than happy to help out Mr. Hopper in his hour of need. It touched Ruby, and she was all the more grateful for the help that was extended to them. She just wished she could repay their kindness with more than a couple of mugs of coffee and a hot meal.

Ruby was amazed at how quickly the pile of timber grew beside the site that was to be the new barn—a site that would, thankfully, not be bare for much longer. Before she knew it, the day of the barn-raising had arrived, and she felt giddy with anticipation of hosting their friends in a healthy mix of work and play: the men would bring their labour while the women provided the sustenance.

Mary Margaret and David were the first to arrive. Mary Margaret helped Ruby set up all the tables they could find outside, ready for the food and drinks that would soon fill them. Belle and Mr. Gold were not far behind, and though Remus could not help much with his bad leg, he was generous in donating supplies and offering Neal’s help when appropriate. Ruby noticed young Sean arrive with a man whom Ruby assumed was his father, and she wondered if he hoped that Ashley would be among the women present. For his sake, Ruby hoped so. Leroy was one of the few bachelors who came from town—Ruby had met him earlier when he had helped Archie with some logging. He was a strange, stout man, but Ruby saw through his gruff pretense and she was glad to see him again.

She began to lose track of everybody as the crowd grew larger and larger. “I could swear the whole town’s here!” she laughed with Mary Margaret as she brought a pitcher of cider out from the house. Mary Margaret beamed back.

“Not quite,” Mary Margaret replied, and the two friends giggled, both knowing that the absence of a certain Mills woman was no great loss—nor was it unexpected.

As if on its best behaviour, the late May sun shone bright, unhidden by any clouds that knew better than to appear on such a day. A light breeze picked up right on cue as the men began to organize under Archie’s and David’s instructions.

The barn-raising had begun.

Ruby and Mary Margaret let the children play while they organized the food, but soon Ruby enlisted the help of August and Neal and Emma in taking water to the men. She wasn’t sure that more water didn’t end up on the children themselves rather than in the pail, but the giggles that rang out from the trio made Ruby’s heart light.

She saw little Grace join them, also, in their task of taking the bucket and ladle around. Ruby looked around, startled to see Jefferson in the midst of the men, holding up beams and pounding in nails to the wood. Ruby realized she had only seen him perfectly made up in town, with every button fastened and his cravat precisely in place. It was strange to see him with his collar open and his sleeves rolled up, dirt smeared across his forehead and on his waistcoat as he worked side-by-side with the farmers. Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat as she realized that Archie would have refused any monetary gift for himself from Jefferson, and so the man had offered to jump into the labour with everyone else instead.

She wasn’t sure if it spoke more to Archie’s character, or Jefferson’s. Probably both.

She found herself scanning the activity in search of Archie to find him in the middle of a line of men as they lifted one of the walls before shifting it up and pushing it in place. She saw the bulge of Archie’s arms as he strained to bear the weight of the structure with everyone else, his sleeves rolled up and sweat on his brow. There was something delightful about sneaking glances when he was so focused, so unaware, and she found herself constantly looking for him in the group throughout the day. Whenever she saw him, her heart raced in her chest while her muscles relaxed—and yet, however foolish it was, she couldn’t help herself.

She felt her pulse quicken slightly when it was time to serve the men their food and Archie was in front of her. His face and arms were already tan from the spring sun, his brow glistening with sweat with a crease across his forehead where his hat had been, and the fabric of his shirt was damp as proof of his hard work.

She felt her gaze linger over his arms as she handed him a plate and she was highly aware of how his fingers brushed against hers. She realized she wished to prolong the contact, but he gave her a polite smile and took a step back. “Thank you,” he said with a nod before he turned to Mary Margaret with the sandwiches.

Ruby could only smile shyly in return, and she realized she was disappointed to lose his attention so quickly.

He retreated to the group of men to eat, all of them leaning against a fence in the sun with their sandwiches in hand. Ruby joined the women-folk on the blankets underneath the cluster of trees near the house and she willed herself to keep her attention on her friends.

The rest of the day saw Ruby and Archie in separate circles, though every now and then their paths would cross and Ruby would hold her breath, anticipating a hand to her back or arm that never came. While he was no less kind, Ruby felt a distance between them that she couldn’t explain—and yet, surely nothing had changed?

She couldn’t help but recall his comments about the tickets for the wagon train, and she fought to control the fluttering in her stomach, like the dead weight of a pendulum counting down the days.

As a distraction, Ruby threw herself into the role of hostess—especially since the women were eager to take turns in watching over Peter. It was much easier to ensure that everyone had enough to eat and drink—and making sure the children weren’t getting up to mischief—than it was trying to figure out the nonsense her emotions were drudging up at the most inopportune time. It was just the commotion of the day, surely.

“I know it’s not under the best of circumstances, but it _is_ fun to get together like this,” Belle said as she helped Mary Margaret and Ruby cut up the pies for the mid-day treat.

“I still can’t believe how many people came!” Ruby exclaimed, ignoring the fact that she was repeating herself as she lifted wedges of pie onto plates that Mary Margaret held out for her.

“Oh, you should see it at the town festival in a few weeks,” Mary Margaret added. “All of Storybrooke gets together at the beginning of summer, and there’s strawberries, and music and dancing, and sometimes even ice cream.”

“We shut down main street,” Belle added, “and even the children stay up ‘til dusk.”

Ruby’s stomach sank, and she noticed her friends’ faces fall.

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said.

“I—I will probably be gone by then,” Ruby said softly, though an explanation was unnecessary. Saying the words aloud made the prospect all the more real, and she was surprised at the pain in her stomach at the thought, the pendulum in her middle increasing its speed as it beat against her ribs.

Ruby busied herself with arranging the plates of pie on the table, fighting to ignore the looks she could feel passing between the two other women.

“I… y-you’ve decided, then?” Mary Margaret asked quietly with a hand to Ruby’s arm.

Ruby swallowed, suddenly confused. “That was always the plan,” she said firmly, though she’d never felt less sure about anything. She looked up, her eyes immediately finding Archie’s figure in the skeletal frame of the barn, his auburn curls peeking out from under his hat. She felt her chest tighten as her pulse began to race.

She took a sharp breath and pasted on a smile as she returned her attention to her friends. “Enough of that. Let’s not ruin a perfectly good day with such talk, yeah?”

Mary Margaret and Belle were kind enough not to press further, and Ruby was able to able to forget everything except the lovely day in which they found themselves—for a little while. Still, try as she might, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was some sort of Cinderella with a celestial clock ticking down the minutes to midnight.

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, Ruby was ready to have their little homestead to themselves again—especially since she could see the droop in Archie’s shoulders as they waved goodbye to the last wagon. The day had been a success, with most of the barn in place, save for some little touches that Archie could do himself—perhaps with a bit of help from David. It was a relief to see the empty space filled with a sturdy building, and the animals were happy to have a home once more.

After the full day, August was blessedly obedient in getting ready for bed, and soon the nine-year-old was fast asleep on his bed beside his father’s cot. Archie wasn’t much better, and Ruby insisted that he follow his son’s lead rather than stay up with her and the baby. “Only if you’re sure,” Archie said with a sheepish smile, barely able to pretend like he wanted to do anything else. In the short time it took for Ruby to get Peter settled in his cradle by the fire, Archie had disappeared behind the curtain to his “room”.

Ruby took quiet steps towards the curtain and pulled it back, her curiosity piqued by the lack of noise. Warmth bloomed in her chest at the sight of father and son both passed out on their beds—August on his stomach under his covers, Archie on his back on top of his blankets, fully dressed after collapsing on his cot.

“Oh, Archie,” Ruby chuckled, tiptoeing into the small space with barely enough room to squeeze around the beds. She carefully leaned over the sleeping man and reached for his glasses, slowly removing them from his face and placing them on the ledge of the window above him.

She reached for an extra blanket and draped it over him, her eyes fixed on his features, now lost in dreamland. The rise and fall of his chest was deep and steady—proof of how hard he had worked, and how tired he was. The light was dim, with just a trace of moonlight coming in through the window and a flicker of light from the hearth, but Ruby could see his expression, so peaceful in sleep. The sight of him tugged at her chest, and she couldn’t resist the urge to brush her hand across his forehead and gently trace down his jaw, a bit prickly with stubble. Her breath hitched in her throat at the intimacy in such a touch, as well as seeing his face bare without his glasses.

Ruby half expected him to stir, and after a pause, she was delighted that he was completely unaware of her presence. She felt like she was in another realm, suspended between reality and a world that she longed for with all her heart.

_A reality where Archie and I are really married._

Ruby froze as her pulse began to race, her mind scrambling to understand what her heart already knew. Slowly, she pulled her hand back and stood up, shuffling out of the little space until she was safely in the main room, her presence hidden behind the cracks and snaps of the fire.

Ruby began to pace in front of the hearth while baby Peter cooed in his cradle by her side. Her hands flutter over one another as she played with the rings on her fingers, completely unaware of the motions of her body as her mind played everything over and over again.

_I love Archie Hopper._

It was like the final piece of the puzzle had slipped into place—a puzzle that she had, up until this very moment, not realized she was even trying to figure out.

The full realization of what she wanted—what she _felt_ —washed over her with such force that she bounced in place, suddenly filled with more energy than she knew what do with. She had to cover her mouth with her hands to suppress a squeal, barely able to keep quiet when everything around her had changed so completely.

She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave everything that she had built with Archie and August—their home. This _was_ her home. She wanted to stay with August—to see him grow up into an energetic, quick-witted and thoughtful young man. She wanted Peter to grow up with the only pa he’d ever known.

She wanted to feel Archie’s arm around her as he introduced her as his wife for the rest of their lives, to know what it would be like to grow old together and raise a family in this frontier town that had already become hers.

“Oh, Peter,” Ruby breathed, sinking to her knees beside the cradle and taking his little fist in her hand, her grin wide and her heart light. “What do you think of staying here instead?”

The infant beamed back at his mother and kicked in delight, which was more than enough for Ruby.


	29. A Decision Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby tries to decide on the best way to talk to Archie.

That night left Ruby with very little sleep, and yet, she buzzed with excitement when she awoke with the dawn. The sun had just begun to shine a faint dusting over the horizon when she lit the fireplace and the stove. In truth, her mind was only partially aware of her actions while she fixated on her recent discovery.

She almost didn’t notice Archie come into the main room until she heard him mumble an, “Oh, sorry”. She turned around to see him with his back to her as he finished tucking his shirt into his pants before slipping his suspenders over his shoulders. Ruby had to bite back a smile, but she managed to compose herself by time he turned around.

“I, uh—I didn’t think you’d be up yet,” he murmured, offering her a small smile that made her chest flutter. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Oh, yes—th-thank you,” Ruby replied, only slightly concerned that she was lying. _No, Archie, I didn’t sleep because I was thinking up a million different ways I could tell you I want to stay but none of them seemed right and then you come out here looking like that and I think my legs just turned to butter._

Instead, she just stared at him for a moment, her eyes lingering over his soft hair that she was dying to run her fingers through….

She jumped when he cleared his throat. “Um, Ruby? Is everything okay?” He took a step towards her, and Ruby froze, completely aware of his presence and unsure of what to do. “I can prepare breakfast if you want to rest for a bit longer.”

Ruby giggled, inwardly cringing at herself. “Oh, no, I’m fine—it’s fine. I’ll make breakfast.”

She turned slightly towards the stove but kept her eyes on him in an awkward half-smile. _Ask me. Ask me what I know._

Archie simply frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Umhmm.” Darn it all, this was not what was supposed to happen. Ruby swallowed and turned her focus to the stove, grabbing the coffee pot and tin of coffee before scooping the grounds into the pot with more force than was necessary.

“Okay…” Archie said, stepping around her like she was a card short of a deck. He made his way to the door, shrugged on his coat, and put on his hat. “Oh, and just so you know, I was thinking I’d go get Flora from David’s place and bring her home by the end of the week. Gold was generous enough to give me some feed, so we should be fine to have her back now.”

“That’s nice,” Ruby said, her eyes fixed in front of her, completely unconcerned about the return of their cow or their milk supply.

“I’ll… be back.”

Ruby let out a sigh once the door clicked shut and she squeezed her eyes closed. “Jiminy _Cricket_!” she exclaimed to herself. She’d lived side-by-side with this man for months and _now_ she chose to regress into a schoolgirl?

The words pulsed on her lips and beat against her teeth all the way through breakfast, but she couldn’t say anything at the table—not in front of August. She waited for a moment when she was alone with Archie, but such a moment never came, and before she knew it, he was off outside with August, and Ruby was left with Peter as her only companion.

And, much as she loved her son, he was very little help in a situation like this.

Left alone to her thoughts, the gravity of the situation weighed on Ruby. She knew she only had to say the words to have Archie let her stay. But then they would go on living as they had been, in separate rooms, as little more than business partners in the same house.

That thought pained Ruby more than the thought of leaving, somehow, and she realized she was kneading the bread dough too roughly.

No, she didn’t want to just continue as they were. She couldn’t bare the thought of still being Archie’s charity case—to owe so much to a man who, at best, held her in high esteem, and at worst, felt an obligation to her to which he was bound forever.

The part that terrified her the most was how unsure she was about what he wanted. A couple of months ago, maybe, she would have bet that he felt more. She thought she had seen affection in his clear eyes… with the occasional flash of desire.

Now? Now, he seemed to avoid any unnecessary physical contact. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d never felt anything for her at all?

Those fears gnawed at Ruby’s core and bolted her mouth shut so that she couldn’t bring herself to say anything when the chance finally arose that night after August had gone to bed. The hearth crackled and Archie sat a couple of feet away from her, but still, her heart pounded in her ribcage and she couldn’t dare speak the words that threatened to confirm her fears.

_Do you want me to stay?_

Another day of this torturous cycle made Ruby decide on a slightly different course of action—a letter. Surely that would be an easier way to explain herself? Or, at the very least, it would save her from being rejected in person.

Yes, a letter would be best. She bounced her foot as she continued her sewing, the methodical movement of the needle passing through the thread slightly hypnotic as she finished the hem of the curtains for Dr. Whale’s new office. She had decided against the use of the machine in favour of the cozy atmosphere she gained by doing it by hand. She could barely focus, however, and more than once she came close to spilling a drop of blood on the fabric as a prick to her finger almost betrayed how her mind wandered.

“Is everything okay?” Archie asked when Ruby’s finger flew to her mouth a second time in the span of a few minutes.

“Of course,” Ruby said quickly, her voice a little too cheerful. She dropped her eyes to her work and only dared to glance over at him after a few moments had passed. The longing in her chest only grew as her gaze lingered on this man who’d so quietly captured her heart, his kind, clear eyes focused on the books before him. It baffled Ruby that they could continue on in their usual way when, as far as she was concerned, everything had changed.

After they bid each other good-night, Ruby realized she couldn’t wait any longer to write out her thoughts to Archie, and so, under the lamplight, huddled in her bedroom, she wrote out a simple question in as tidy a hand as she could manage on the small bedside table.

 

_Dear Archie,_

_I don’t want to go. This is my home. You are my home._

_Ask me to stay._

_Yours,_

_Ruby_

 

Ruby’s hands trembled as she blew on the ink and carefully folded the note closed once it was dry. She tucked it under her pillow for safe keeping, her mind running through all the ways she might leave it for him to discover the next day.

An opportunity quickly presented itself when Archie announced that he would make the trip to the Nolans’ to bring Flora back home. August pleaded with his pa to join him, but Archie insisted that it would be a short trip, and that the boy needed to stay and help with the chores at home.

Ruby watched Archie ride off on Cleo, holding her breath until he was finally out of view from the glass window. With August safely outside feeding the chickens, she spun around on her heel and rushed to her bedroom, pulling the letter out from beneath her pillow. With a bounce to her step and her pulse already racing, she snuck into Archie’s corner. She scanned the area, wondering where to leave her message until her eyes rested on the Bible on his pillow. She smiled to herself and tucked the note inside, trying not to imagine him opening it the next morning to a—hopefully very welcomed—surprise.

The sound of the front door shutting brought Ruby back from her daydream, and she scrambled out from the curtain to be met with a frown by a very confused nine-year-old.

“What are you doing back there?” he asked.

Ruby chuckled nervously. “It’s, um, it’s laundry day. And I need you to start bringing in the pails of water for the stove, please.” She relaxed when that seemed to satisfy him and he headed back outside.

Though there was much to do, Ruby found her thoughts wandered as her hands kept busy. The hours dragged, and even Archie’s short trip to their neighbours’ seemed agonizingly long. Ruby shook her head at herself as she strained to hear the sound of dirt and gravel under hooves. He wouldn’t likely find her note until the next day, anyway.

She had to keep reminding herself of that fact throughout the rest of the day after Archie’s return and into the evening, though she couldn’t resist sneaking glances at him on the chance that he had found it. Then again, such a discovery would warrant a larger reaction than his usual smiles, much as they set her heart fluttering in her chest.

Ruby tried not to be disappointed when the evening ended in the same fashion as the rest, and she tried to keep her “good night” calm, not daring to betray the anticipation of what the morning might bring. She didn’t feel very composed, but at the very least, Archie seemed none the wiser.

The next morning, Ruby was up and preparing breakfast earlier than normal again, so she was there to greet Archie when he emerged from his “room”. Her heart stilled in her chest and her breath caught in her throat when she turned to meet his gaze, and for a moment, she was sure time itself stood still.

_Ask me, Archie._

Then, her heart sank when all she received was his usual warm smile with his “good morning” murmured in his husky morning voice that usually sent shivers through her.

Nothing.

Ruby turned away to face the stove, blinking back tears that pricked her eyes. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

“Is—is everything set for today?” she asked, her voice small.

“I think so,” he replied, coming up beside her and reaching for a mug and the coffee pot. Ruby fought to keep her focus on the bacon frying in front of her rather than his presence mere inches from her skin. If she just leaned over, if she just reached at this exact moment, her arm would brush his.

“You’re ready to come to town with us?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Ruby asked, shaking her head. “Oh, yes. Of course. It will be exciting to put the curtains up.” The last touch to the doctor’s lodgings.

Archie murmured his agreement as he poured his coffee before placing the pot back on the stove. He stepped away, and Ruby felt the cold emptiness beside her as he took his place at the table.

She moved the frying pan off the heat and grabbed a mug for herself, pouring her own coffee and sitting with Archie. She licked her lips, her mouth dry and her mind racing to comprehend what Archie wasn’t saying out loud.

The silence hung thick in the air until Archie finally spoke. “I guess—I guess this is the time to be buying the tickets for you and Peter.”

Ruby froze, her stomach cold as ice. She turned away and closed her eyes, fighting with all her might to keep the tears at bay.

She had her answer.

“Of—of course.” _No. No! Please don’t send me away._

“It’s already June, and the next train leaves in about a week.” He sounded so calm, which only seemed to bring on more tears. “It’s… we’re cutting it close.”

She’d miss August’s birthday.

“Th-that’s what we agreed on,” Ruby replied, her voice almost cracking. She took a deep breath and turned to face him, though she kept her gaze lowered on his hands around his coffee cup.

Ruby wasn’t sure what happened for the rest of the day. Somehow, she managed to keep herself collected—managed to serve Archie and August their breakfasts before hiding away with the baby in the bedroom for his feeding. Her limbs felt heavy and her stomach felt sick as she sat on the wagon bench for the ride into town, her arms tight around Peter with August seated in between her and Archie. She didn’t notice the warm breeze dancing across her cheeks, ripe with the promise of summer. She didn’t notice the little doctor’s office and apartment, complete with their furnishings and now made homey with her curtains put up by Archie’s hand. She just managed to purchase a pen for August—a task which, under normal circumstances, would usually make her giddy with anticipation, but now only made tears prick her eyes. She only barely saw Archie come back to the wagon with two tickets safely tucked in his coat pocket.

All Ruby saw was the little kitchen garden when they arrived home, with one side of the white picket fence still blackened from where the fire had brushed up against its border. Bright green shoots sprouted from the earth in tidy rows, with some of the plants recognizable in smaller versions of what their full-grown selves would become.

Ruby had to run inside to hide the tears that she could no longer keep from spilling down her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Though Archie knew this time had been coming, he still wasn’t prepared for the ache in his heart when June rolled around. In a strange way, he’d almost been grateful for the barn fire and the chance to bring the community together—more than a distraction, he’d wondered if it might change Ruby’s mind about leaving.

He didn’t really let himself hope, though—not now. He’d almost dared to a few weeks ago when he was convinced that there was something between them—a hint of a spark when they were near. There was an easiness between them, and a sincerity to her smile that he’d never seen before. He cherished their time together—he loved talking with her—and he revelled in the excuse to be close to her when they were planning the doctor’s quarters, or her small garden. They would lean over the table, her soft hair a breath away from his cheek and he’d have to stop himself from breathing in her sweet scent.

He’d almost dared as much on the day they planted the little garden, when he’d glimpsed her at her most carefree. He chased after her, spurred on by her squeals, and for a moment he could almost pretend that they were husband and wife. The feel of her in his arms was burned into his memory—the weight of her slight frame atop him, pressing into him with every breath, her lips a whisper away from his. He would have given anything to press his mouth to hers in a tender kiss, but, as if she could sense his intentions, she spooked. The wall was up between them once more, keeping things polite and tidy and proper.

It was more than he could bare.

He made sure to be more careful from then on—made sure to give her her space, not to overstep boundaries. She seemed to relax around him again, which made him relax in turn. He loved when her bright smile returned, no longer hesitant. He loved her melodic laugh ringing out through the cabin. He loved her green eyes that danced with mirth and swam with such feeling he thought he could drown in her gaze.

He loved her so much that his whole being ached with what could never be.

That was exactly why he couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t force her to stay with him, whatever the law said. She’d made it clear that she was going home, and he had no right to ask any more of her. He wished for it with all his might, but he could never force his own desires on her.

As the time of the next wagon train approached, Archie noticed Ruby acting strangely. Perhaps she was just nervous about the months that lay ahead of her, especially travelling with the baby—a prospect that made Archie hate these plans all the more. The infant with dark hair and dark eyes to match grew bigger every week, and Archie felt sick at the thought of never seeing the boy again. He couldn’t imagine his and August’s lives without Ruby and Peter, and there was no use in pretending that he saw Peter as anything less than his own son.

The weight on Archie’s chest grew heavier and heavier with each passing day.

One day, David Nolan had asked for Archie’s help in mending some fences, and Archie asked Ruby if she would like to come, hoping it would make for a nice final visit with Mary Margaret.

“I should probably stay here and pack,” was her only answer.

Archie nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat, unable to say more. He wished he hadn’t promised to help David that week, but it was too late to back out, and it was clear Ruby wanted her space. Still, Archie was not looking forward to an afternoon spent with the Nolans and their questions—or worse, their silent sympathy.

The day dragged on, and Archie found he couldn’t quite keep himself focused on his task with David. “Sorry?” he had to say multiple times, realizing he hadn’t caught part of what his friend was saying. It only earned him pained looks of understanding, which somehow made him feel worse.

At least August was able to have a fun day with Emma. The two played with the new litter of kittens, which had August begging his pa to keep one as they drove back home.

“We’ll see,” Archie chuckled sadly. “They’re too small to leave their mama just yet, anyway.”

“Okay, but when they’re bigger? Can’t I please have one? It’s almost my birthday.”

Archie swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. “Yes, it is.”

He kept Cleo’s pace slow as they made their way in the direction of home. Archie took a deep breath before he continued, wishing that the next topic wasn’t necessary.

“August, do you remember when Miss Ruby came to live with us?” he began, trying to choose his words carefully.

“Yeah,” August replied.

Archie bit his lip to stop himself from correcting his son’s grammar. “Well, she was only here to stay for the winter. She’s stayed with us a bit longer, because of the baby, and then the barn fire…” he trailed off, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.

“But she’s leaving on Saturday, isn’t she?”

Archie started and turned to his son. He should have realized that he would have picked up on everything.

“Yes,” he said, his voice cracking.

“But can’t she stay for my birthday?” the boy asked quietly, meeting Archie’s gaze, and Archie felt tears prick at his eyes and his nose begin to sing.

“Oh, Son, I wish she could, but she has to leave when the wagons leave,” Archie said, putting his arm around August as the boy scooted closer. “But we’ll have a birthday dinner before then, okay?”

“Okay,” August mumbled.

They rode in silence for a few moments as the homestead came into view.

“Pa?” August asked quietly.

“Yes, Son?”

“Does she have to go?”

Archie squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before he answered, willing his heart not to break in two.

“I’m afraid so.”

 


	30. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dreaded day arrives, and Ruby and Archie and August struggle to say "good-bye" as Ruby prepares to leave with Peter on the wagon train.

Those final days were a torment. Ruby couldn’t help the grief that hung over her like the shadow of a cloud ready to burst, her limbs heavy as she fought to accomplish all that she needed to do. On the one hand, there was very little in the way of personal possessions to take with her, especially since so many of her things were lost in the fire. On the other hand, she had an infant son, and the list of things that she would need for his care seemed endless. Still, she managed to collect everything into one small trunk, knowing that space would be even more limited than it had been on her journey west, now that she’d be with many other travellers.

A couple of days before her departure, Archie, August, and Ruby sat down to an early birthday celebration—August’s favourite, fried chicken.

“Here you go, birthday boy!” Ruby gushed as she placed the almost-overflowing plate on the table, the aroma of fried food wafting up around them.

“Almost,” August corrected her before giving a sheepish smile. “Thank you.”

The family tried to keep the evening cheerful, but nobody could quite forget that this was one of their last meals together. For a little while longer, at least, they could pretend that nothing was going to change.

“Ten years old!” Archie exclaimed, standing up and making his way behind August, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I could swear it was only yesterday you were as small as Peter.”

“Pa,” August almost whined back. “I haven’t been that small in ages!”

“Well, a pa never forgets,” Archie replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

Ruby shared a smile with Archie as she brought over the cake with the candles—one for each year. The candles flickered, sending out a cheerful glow around the table that illuminated August’s and Archie’s faces.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” Archie and Ruby sang out. Ruby scooped up Peter from his crib and sat him on her lap, clapping his hands along to the beat as Archie’s deep voice rang out through the cabin. “Happy birthday, dear August—happy birthday to you!”

“Now make a wish and blow out the candles,” Archie coaxed August as he took his seat.

August scrunched his eyes shut for a moment, his brow furrowed before he opened them and hurriedly blew out his candles. Ruby wondered if he wished for a new toy, but she couldn’t help but think what she would wish for, as if such a wish could actually come true if she was in August’s place.

“Hurray!” Archie and Ruby both cheered as the smoke curled up from the candles. Ruby bounced the baby on her knee as he took in the strange sights before him, wide-eyed. Archie served the cake—a simple pound cake with a molasses glaze—since Ruby was preoccupied with Peter on her lap.

Then, it was time for the one thing better than birthday cake—presents. Ruby did her best to commit the sight to memory, the delight in the little boy’s eyes as he opened his gifts.

First, he unwrapped a new fishing pole from Archie. “Thanks, Pa!” August cried, throwing his arms around his father.

“You’re welcome,” Archie replied, holding his son close. Ruby saw Archie beam back at his son as they pulled back. “There should be lots of good fishing at the creek by now.”

“I’ll catch us a big fish for dinner, you’ll see!” August assured him, grinning from ear to ear.

Ruby slid her parcels over to the boy across the table. “This is from Peter and me.”

He unwrapped both items with the haste of a child, and Ruby couldn’t help but laugh.

“What is it?” he asked, holding up the slim case.

“Open it up and see!” she replied, barely able to hold back her glee.

August snapped the case open to reveal the pen, complete with a mahogany handle and a shiny new nib.

“It’s for you to write all your stories down,” Ruby explained, her own smile wide as she watched him take in every detail, carefully lifting it from the case and holding it up for inspection. “And maybe a few letters,” she added, a lump rising in her throat. “I’ll need you to let me know everything that’s going on in Storybrooke, too.” She kept her grin in place, despite the tears she could feel welling up, and she refused to look at Archie.

“I’ve never had such a nice pen of my own before!” August exclaimed. “Thanks, Miss Ruby!” He jumped up and threw his arms around Ruby and the baby in a clumsy hug, pinning her arms down.

Ruby chuckled and kissed his head. “You’re very welcome, August.” She nodded towards the book that was mostly freed of its brown paper. “But look, there’s something else.”

August plopped back in his seat and held up the book. “It’s your book about fairy tales,” he said, his tone and expression serious.

“Umhmm,” Ruby said cheerfully, bouncing Peter on her knee again. “I want you to have it.” It was one of the few things not lost in the fire since it had already been in the house. “I know you’ve read them all already, but I thought you might like to re-read them now and then.” _And think of me._

Ruby wasn’t entirely sure if it was an exciting enough gift for a young boy, but his thanks seemed genuine. “I’ll keep it right at the top of the shelf,” he assured her, his eyes fixed on the cover, alight with what almost looked like reverence.

“I’m glad.”

She dared not glance at Archie, worried that she might not be able to keep her composure should she meet his gaze—or worse, if he wasn’t looking at her at all.

As much as Ruby wanted to extend this moment—the four of them gathered around the table with the cozy firelight and candlelight all around them—it was soon time to clear the table. Ruby needn’t have worried about them calling an early end to the evening, however, for soon Archie had his fiddle out, filling the cabin with enough cheer to chase away gloomy thoughts of what was to come. The flickering light made Archie’s and August’s hair glow fiery red, and Ruby danced and clapped with August and Peter until her limbs ached. They all stubbornly refused to pay any heed to the little clock that stood on top of the mantle.

Ruby even sensed that just maybe, she was not the only trying to make these final days last for as long as possible. 

Try as she might, however, Ruby could not stop the day of departure from coming. Her stomach felt sick as her eyes fluttered open, her mind not giving her a moment’s relief in the fogginess of waking.

 _Today_.

She tried to remain cheerful for everyone as she prepared breakfast, and she fought the weight on her chest when she greeted Archie returning from the morning chores. “Good morning,” she said, quickly looking away in a futile attempt to keep the tears from welling up.

More than once she came close to suggesting—begging—that she could wait until the August train, but she knew that it would only delay the inevitable. Besides, it would be best to travel with baby Peter in the good weather. She had experienced enough travel in a cold and rainy autumn to last her a lifetime.

Breakfast was finished all too soon, and after a few chores, there was nothing more to do but pack up the wagon to head to town.

As Archie and August prepared Cleo and hauled the trunk to the wagon, Ruby took one last look around the little bedroom that had come to be her own. How much had changed since that first day when she was huddled in the corner with dear Pongo as her only comfort.

She walked around, Peter slung on her hip as she smoothed out the quilts on top of her bed, moving methodically to August’s bed, which had been returned a few days earlier. She smiled sadly to see the curtains on the two windows, her chest tight at the thought of how she’d made a small mark on the homestead. At least Archie would finally be able to sleep in a real bed again, she thought with a chuckle. An image sprung to mind of her and Archie sharing the bed like a true husband and wife, and Ruby had to blink away her tears, shaking the picture away.

 _Don’t be so foolish_.

She grabbed the little mother-and-pup wolf set that August had carved for her and put them in her pockets, wishing to keep them safe through the long journey, before making her way to the main room.

She slowly walked around the little cabin, committing every piece of furniture and decoration to memory. The ornate mantle with its little cuckoo clock. The sink where she’d spent countless hours washing up and watching Archie work outside. The stove that had given her so much grief when she’d first arrived, which she had long since mastered. The sewing machine on which she’d created so many garments for her boys. The table, which had seen countless friends come through, and where she’d spent some of her happiest hours surrounded by the laughter of August and Archie.

Where she’d caught Archie smiling at her in his way that crinkled the laugh lines around his blue eyes and deepened his dimples, and how it made her heart catch in her throat.

Before she could let herself imagine any more, Ruby took a deep breath and forced her feet to carry her outside. Archie and August were probably wondering what was taking her so long, and she was surprised that she hadn’t already been called for.

As she passed through the door, Pongo bounded up to her as if in a final greeting, and she patted his head before crouching down and burying her hand in his fur.

“Good-bye, Boy,” she murmured. Peter waved his hand and patted the dog’s snout, and Ruby let out a sad chuckle. “Gentle, gentle,” she reminded him, guiding his hand in smooth strokes along Pongo’s head. The wolf of a dog simply sat still, panting, his tail wagging as he soaked up the attention.

After a few moments, Ruby stood up and looked around for Archie and August. The wagon was empty, save for her trunk, and Cleo stood by herself. She spotted Archie a few feet away at the base of August’s tree house, his head tilted back as he talked to the wooden structure.

Ruby’s breath caught in her throat and a couple of tears escaped in hot trails down her cheeks.

She could see the father was equal parts arguing and coaxing, and Ruby had to stop herself from going over. Instead, she turned around and waited by the wagon, bringing Peter to her front and bouncing him in her arms.

“We’re going to go on journey,” she cooed, her smile pasted on as best as she could manage, her eyes and cheeks wet. “We’re going to go on a long wagon ride, and then you’ll meet your great-granny!” Try as she might, the cheer in her voice didn’t hold a drop of sincerity, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

“I think we’re about ready now,” a raspy voice called from behind, and Ruby spun around as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Sounds good,” Ruby said before she swallowed, her mouth dry.

Archie walked towards her with August at his side, his hand on his son’s shoulder. The boy’s face was in a deep-set frown, his eyes red and puffy, and Ruby had to blink back her own tears.

They were silent as they climbed into the carriage—first August, then Ruby as Archie held the baby for her. Finally, Archie hurried to the other side and climbed up beside his son. With a flick of the reigns, they were off, and Ruby allowed herself one final glance at the homestead before she forced herself to keep her gaze forward.

The journey into town was long and painful, but Ruby almost wished it could last forever, given what lay ahead. Instead, Archie soon pulled up in front of the ticket office, the wagons already lined up main street with other travellers milling about.

Before she knew it, her trunk was loaded onto one of the wagons, her tickets having already been given in, and she was left with nothing to do but say good-bye.

She handed Peter to Archie and knelt down in front of August.

“I don’t want you to go!” he burst out, and Ruby bit her lip, trying to keep herself from crying as she saw a couple of tears run down the boy’s cheeks.

“I know,” she replied, her voice cracking. “It’s just—something I have to do. But I’ll always love you, and we’ll write to each other. And here—” she added, reaching into her pocket to pull out the smaller of the wolf figurines. “I need you to keep this safe for me, okay? Keep it by your bed, and every time you look at it, you can think of me and Peter.” She paused, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. “And I’ll—I’ll have the mama wolf, and every time we see it back in Boston we’ll think of you, and you’re pa—and—and we’ll always be together, okay?”

She clasped his hands around the figure, her grip unnecessarily tight as she kept her gaze fixed on August’s eyes welling up with tears.

He nodded slowly before throwing his arms around her. Ruby closed her eyes and squeezed him as hard as she could, her own tears streaming down her cheeks. The two held each other for a long moment, and Ruby pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple before finally pulling back. She opened her eyes to catch Archie turning away from her, his back to them.

“Now you be good for your pa, you hear?” she told August, returning her attention to the boy. “You’ve got to take care of him for me and Peter.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand as the redheaded boy gave a solemn nod while she stood up.

“P-Peter and I,” August mumbled.

Ruby let out a wet chuckle and stroked August’s cheek, not bothering to correct him as her throat grew tight, matching the invisible grip around her lungs and stomach.

Then, they turned to Archie, Ruby’s hand across August’s shoulders for a moment until she took a step towards the father. He turned back to face them and gently returned Peter to her arms, and she cherished the last moment of their arms brushing, her heart full to see how gentle he was with their son.

Her son.

She dared to glance up and noticed that his own eyes were watery, and she felt more tears well up.

“Th-thank you,” she breathed, her voice small. “For everything. I’ll always be grateful that you—that you came to me that day.” The words seemed so inadequate, but they were all she could manage, with her mouth dry, her emotions stuck in her throat as if to suffocate her. She’d fought to keep herself collected, but it was a battle she was quickly losing as she looked into Archie’s clear blue eyes framed by his spectacles, unsure of what she read there.

He simply nodded, and Ruby’s heart fell.

“Final call for the wagons!” a shrill voice called behind them, making Ruby jump.

She turned back to Archie and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek—a final moment of intimacy. She spun around before he could see the tears fall down her face, unable to even say good-bye as she hurried towards the wagons with Peter clutched in her arms.

She had thought she already knew what it felt like to have her heart shattered, but this was an entirely different kind of pain, and she was sure if she looked back, she would break her resolve.

_Lord, give me strength._

She couldn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

The homestead was eerily quiet when Archie and August returned. Even Pongo seemed to know better than to bound up with his usual barks of greeting.

It was all Archie could do to unhitch Cleo and get her settled in the barn. His muscles were heavy with exhaustion and he could feel the sting in his eyes that matched the weight pressing on his chest.

The worst thing, however, was entering the cabin, now so cold and empty. “August,” Archie warned, sensing his son was about to retreat to his tree house again. “Can you please help me move everything back to the bedroom?” It was better if the boy wasn’t left alone quite yet.

August nodded and trudged to the back of the cabin, disappearing behind the curtain of the makeshift “room”. Archie slowly turned towards the bedroom, the door still open.

He shuffled in, his heart in his throat as his breaths came short. The familiar sting in his nose and the prick to his eyes returned when he saw the room so neatly made up, as if she had never been there, save for the empty cradle at the foot of the bed and the curtains framing the windows.

Archie took a deep breath and took a couple of steps to the chest of drawers, opening the first one to prepare for the task that lay ahead.

He saw an unfamiliar colour at the back of the drawer and he frowned, reaching in, his hand connecting with soft yarn. He pulled out the item to discover a knitted scarf like the one that Ruby had given August at Christmas, only slightly longer and with his own initials.

A sob escaped as he stumbled back to the bed. His knees hit the bed frame, forcing him to collapsing on the mattress. He stared at the scarf in his hands, and the letters blurred as tears ran down his cheeks, no longer able to restrain the emotion he’d battled all day, and for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t drown him completely.

He squeezed his eyes shut, the wool tight in his grip as he rested his elbows on his knees and hunched over. All he could picture was Ruby in front of him, holding Peter in her arms, the last glimpse of the child with his dark eyes, always filled with light.

And Ruby—her dark hair framing her porcelain skin, her red lips always pulled into a grin that took his breath away. Her green eyes, usually bright, had been so dark and pained that he’d almost brought himself to ask her if she really wanted to go.

Thank goodness he hadn’t been as weak as that.

Her good-bye was so brief, a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin still burned from her touch.

He hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye, she was gone in an instant—he couldn’t even dare so much as to brush his lips against her forehead.

“Father, I don’t understand,” he gasped in a desperate prayer. “I know Your ways are good, but I can barely breathe through this pain. I know you brought Ruby and Peter into our lives, but now I don’t know how we’ll go on without them.”

He knew it was a selfish prayer, but it was all he could do as grief clawed at his chest, the emotions that had been rising up for so long finally breaking free. He kept his eyes squeezed shut as another wave of tears came, every muscle in his body aching and heavy. He longed to collapse on his bed and stay there for the rest of the day.

Archie forced his eyes open and made himself take deep, even breaths to quell sobs that threatened to spill over.

“Pa, come here!”

“Just a minute, August!” Archie called back, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes with one hand.

“Pa, you gotta see this!” August called from the main room.

Archie fought the annoyance that bubbled amongst his other emotions. “I just need a moment, Son. I’ll be right there!” He took more deep breaths, willing himself to gain control lest August see him so undone.

“Pa, I…” August trailed off, now standing in the doorway. “Pa, are you okay?” His voice was small.

Archie gave him as sincere a smile as he could as he returned his glasses to his face. “I’m fine,” he lied, standing up and closing the distance between him and his son. “What is it?”

“Pa, I found this,” August said, holding up a letter.

Archie frowned, both at the sincerity in his son’s expression and at the piece of paper he held up.

Archie took the paper and scanned it, his heart in his throat as he fought to comprehend the words, his heart already recognizing Ruby’s neat handwriting.

 

 

_Dear Archie,_

 

_I don’t want to go. This is my home. You are my home._

 

_Ask me to stay._

 

_Yours,  
_

_Ruby_

 

 

For a moment, Archie was frozen in place, not knowing whether to cry or scream in delight.

“August, I need—I need you to stay here. I need—I’m going to go back to town. You stay here.”

He didn’t have time to say more as he bolted for the barn, his mind in chaos except for one thing.

_Ruby._

 

* * *

 

There was cloud hovering over the Nolan homestead—though figurative in nature, it held far more gloom than any physical threat—as they kept a sort of vigil over the day of Ruby’s departure. Mary Margaret and David shared a look as they spotted the wagon with the four Hoppers heading towards Storybrooke, and Mary Margaret squeezed her husband’s hand when she noticed the wagon return with only father and son.

“I thought for sure they would have sorted themselves out by now,” she said softly.

“Mary Margaret,” David warned.

“I know, I know,” she replied quickly with a sad smile. “I was just—I mean, you saw the way those two looked at each other. I’ve never seen such longing, even from the young’uns who are full-on courting.”

David chuckled. “I know,” he repeated, taking her in his arms.

She wrapped her arms around her husband’s middle, disappointment weighing on her that the two people she cared most about hadn’t found happiness. “I could have sworn it was going to work out, that’s all.”

David pressed a kiss to her forehead and gave her a squeeze. “I know.”

What was even more surprising than Ruby’s having left at all was that, less than half an hour after they’d seen Archie and August pass by their homestead, Archie himself charged up to their door on an exhausted Cleo.

“Archie!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, rushing to him along with David. “What on earth is the matter?”

David barely had time to take the reins before Archie had jumped down, breathless.

“I need—I’ve got—can I borrow a horse? Cleo’s not fast enough.”

Mary Margaret and David exchanged puzzled glances. “Of course,” David said with a nod, handing his wife the reins as she cooed over the animal, and he rushed to get Happy tacked up as quickly as he could.

“Archie, can I get you something to drink?” Mary Margaret offered as David led the horse to the disheveled man.

“No time! But th-thanks,” Archie replied, taking the reins from David and mounting the horse in one swift motion. “I’ve got to go.”

And with that, he was off in a cloud of dust, leaving his friends staring after him with wide eyes.

“Oh, David, he’s doing it! He’s chasing after her!” Mary Margaret gushed, beaming at her husband while she stroked Cleo’s muzzle.

David was more than happy to wholeheartedly agree with his wife’s optimistic conclusion.

 

* * *

 

Though it had been less than an hour, Ruby was already weary of the bumps and jolts of the wagon. It didn’t help matters that she was pressed up on both sides by other passengers, and she longed for the days when she could have ridden up on the wagon seat. Peter, normally a contented baby, protested their accommodation also as he fussed in her arms, much as she bounced him and murmured to him in an attempt to soothe him as well as herself.

“Sh-h-h-h, Precious, everything’s alright,” she chanted, wishing she could believe her own words. In truth, she still fought back tears and wished she could sleep for days.

“That’s a nice lad you’ve got there,” an older woman across from her said.

Ruby gave a polite smile. “Thank you,” she replied halfheartedly.

“Did you lose his pa?”

Ruby swallowed. “My husband, yes,” she replied, the sting returning to her eyes as tears welled up. To her surprise, she realized she pictured Archie as she said the words, and she glanced down to the golden wedding band on her finger.

“It’s terrible country,” the woman spat, looking out past the canvas sides. “Completely godless, if you ask me.” Ruby could sense the bitterness in her tone, her expression creased in anger and etched with weariness.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ruby replied, her eyes fixed on Peter, picturing all that they left behind. “I think it’s kind of beautiful.”

Suddenly, Ruby caught a sound from beyond the canvas sides, and her heart stopped. Was it? No, she was just hearing things—a cruel trick of her heart, teasing her with her deepest desire that could never be.

Then she thought she heard it again—a man calling her name.

“Archie?” she asked quietly, not daring to hope. And yet, her pulse quickened, ignoring logic.

The wagon came to a stop, causing the women passengers to bump into each other, but Ruby took no notice. She handed Peter to the kindly looking woman beside her and scrambled to the back of the wagon, scanning the horizon.

There he was, clear as day—Archie, racing like a wild man towards them on horseback.

Ruby’s heart leapt in her chest, her grief instantly gone as he brought the horse to a quick stop and jumped down. Ruby barely noticed the gasps of the women behind her when she leaned out of the carriage, searching his face as he stood before her, breathless.

“Archie, what on earth are you doing?” she cried, unable to suppress a smile. Then, her expression fell. “Is August okay? Are you?”

Archie panted heavily, resting his hands on the ledge on either side of Ruby’s as her grip tightened around the wood. He shook his head. “Everything’s—fine,” he gasped.

Ruby repeated her question, her pulse racing. “Archibald Hopper, why are you tearing across the wilderness like a mad man?”

He regained his composure slightly and leaned closer. “I realized—I couldn’t let you leave without asking you something.”

Ruby bit her lip, her heart racing wildly. “Ask me what?” she asked softly, resisting the urge to touch his face. _You’re here. You’re really here, in front of me._

His expression looked so earnest that Ruby thought her heart would melt, and she kept her gaze fixed on his eyes as his lips formed the most beautiful words.

“Please stay. Stay with us. Stay—stay with _me_.” His clear blue eyes flitted between hers as if he doubted her answer.

Ruby’s heart soared for an instant before its flight was cut short by a terrible thought. The deepest desires of her heart dangled before her, tantalizing, and yet the shimmer of it all could be nothing more than false gold. “Archie, I can’t stay with you just to take care of August. I need—I need more than that.” Her voice cracked as she feared she was losing her last chance at happiness, flinging it away like a fool.

Archie’s gaze fixed firmly on her own, no longer moving, and his hands brushed hers.

“Stay because I love you. I love you, Ruby Lucas Smith Hopper.”

Ruby felt her heart would burst from her chest, her eyes welling up for an entirely different reason. “And I love you, Archibald Hopper,” she murmured softly, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

Archie grinned in return, his whole face lighting up as he let out a breath. Then, he took her in his arms tightly and she squeezed back, burying her head into his shoulder as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. She hugged him back, revelling in the weight of him, the reality of him, and she was decided that she would never let him go.

Finally, they pulled back, and Archie’s hands cupped her face. For a moment, she swore she would be forever lost to the love she saw in his eyes before he crashed his lips to hers and she melted into his touch, completely unaware of her nose pressed into his or how his hat tumbled to the ground.

The anxiety, the anguish of the last week, the last months, the last year, melted away in a single kiss that made Ruby feel like she was in a happily-ever-after of her own. When they finally broke apart, she let out a nervous giggle, her mind still struggling to put the pieces together.

“I thought—I thought you didn’t want me.”

Archie shook his head violently, and Ruby saw tears in his eyes. “I didn’t get your note. August only just found it when we got home. I thought—I thought you wanted to leave.”

Ruby grinned, chastising herself for leaving her fate to a foolish letter. “I—I was too scared to say anything more,” she admitted, pressing her forehead to his as their breaths came heavy between them.

“So was I.” He pressed another quick kiss to her lips, and Ruby thought it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but are you comin’ or goin’?” a stern voice asked from behind her.

Ruby whirled around to see the scowl of the woman with whom she’d been talking earlier. Clearly, she was not amused with what she deemed to be a proven falsehood.

“I’m going with my husband,” she said triumphantly, taking the baby from the other woman and handing him to Archie, whose grin was as wide as her own. With one hand, he helped her down, and Ruby waved to the other women. “Have a safe journey!” she cried, still in disbelief that she was truly heading home.

Archie handed Peter back to her and rushed to the front of the wagon train. A disgruntled driver reluctantly hopped down and managed to help Archie find Ruby’s trunk in one of the wagons while Ruby swayed with the baby beside the horse. The trunk landed with a loud _thud_ on the ground, but Ruby didn’t care.

The wagon train soon drove away, leaving a very giddy husband and wife with a young baby, a horse, and a trunk with which they had no means of getting home.

“I’ll have to come back for it, I guess,” Archie chuckled as he turned to Ruby. “Are you okay to get up on the horse if I hold Peter?”

Ruby smirked. “As if I can’t mount my own horse,” she said, handing the baby to Archie. She hiked up her skirts, put one foot in the stirrup, and with a hop and a swing of her leg, she was in the saddle and reaching for her child.

Archie grinned as he handed Peter into her arms. He then swung himself up behind her, and, taking the reins, turned them in the direction of home.

“Is this the Nolans’ horse?” Ruby asked as she indulged in the urge to lean back against Archie’s chest. He pressed a kiss to her head and she bit her lip, the gesture sending shivers through her.

“Yes—it’s a long story,” he said. He said no more, and Ruby made a mental note to ask him more later. For the time being, she enjoyed the slow ride home, her muscles finally relaxing after the emotional day.

Her pulse began to race again, however, when the homestead came into view. Her heart caught in her throat when August hopped down from the last step of his tree-house and ran down towards them, too impatient to wait for them to come to the house. Ruby sat up straighter and Archie urged the horse into a trot for the last few paces.

“You’re back!” August cried, his eyes shining, and Ruby thought Archie couldn’t hop down from the horse fast enough. She quickly gave Peter to him before sliding to the ground and throwing herself at August.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” she murmured, squeezing him as tightly as she dared. “I promise I’ll never leave you again.” His smaller arms squeezed back, and she thought she’d never been so happy in her whole life.

Finally, she pulled back just enough to pepper his face with kisses, and he laughed in delight. When they did stand up, she saw Archie beaming at them, Peter in his arms, his eyes watery, and she gave him her own emotional smile.

They were home.


	31. What Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie finally find themselves alone after a day of revelations.

The rest of the day passed by in a sort of dreamy haze for Ruby, but she was determined to stay awake. Somehow, David and Archie managed to exchange their horses and get her trunk back from the middle of nowhere. They also managed to eat some sort of dinner, though Ruby wasn’t very hungry. She couldn’t help but stare at Archie and August in wonder, transfixed by the sight so ordinary and yet so magical—the simple act of them eating around the table. Archie apologized that it was only biscuits and gravy, but Ruby couldn’t care in the least—and, she suspected from the expressions on Archie’s and August’s faces, neither did they.

“Pa, tell me how you raced after the wagon train,” August said, his mouth half full.

Archie chuckled, his eyes bright and landing on Ruby. She raised her brows as she returned his gaze, eager to hear his side of events.

“Well, I rushed over to Uncle David’s house so I could borrow one of their horses,” Archie explained as he mopped up the gravy on his plate with his biscuit. “Cleo is a good horse, but there’s no way she could catch up to the wagons in time.”

“Which horse did you take?” August asked, his eyes wide as he listened to every detail.

“Oh, um—I think it was Happy.”

“Happy is a fast horse,” August replied with a satisfied nod, and Ruby chuckled and scrunched her nose at Archie.

“So Uncle David brought Happy out for me while Auntie Mary Margaret took care of Cleo. My heart was racing and I rode off as fast as I could to catch up with Miss Ruby.”

Ruby bit her lip, replaying the image in her mind of the moment she spotted Archie on the horizon. “I’d never seen him ride so fast,” she added, leaning closer to August like she was sharing a secret. August beamed back at them both, and Ruby could see how proud Archie was to be the hero in his son’s eyes—and her own.

With very little clean up needed, the rest of the evening was a drawn-out celebration. Ruby brought out the tin of cookies and Archie brought out his fiddle, playing every sort of cheery song that matched the delight in Ruby’s heart.

August refused to go to bed, even as he was clearly fading, and Archie couldn’t help but let him stay up until he passed out in his chair beside Ruby, who had her arm around him and ruffled his hair with her hand. She threw a look to Archie, who took his cue with a nod and came over to carry the boy to his bed. As they’d done before, they worked together to change him into his night shirt and tuck him under his covers—and Ruby loved every moment of it.

“My wish came true,” the boy murmured, half asleep, as Archie laid his head on the pillow and Ruby pulled the covers up to his chin. Ruby’s heart leapt in her chest and she nodded before whispering, “Mine, too.” She met Archie’s gaze, able to make out his smile in the light coming from the main room.

They both pressed a good night kiss to the boy’s forehead before they crept out of the bedroom and shut the door.

Ruby grew uncharacteristically shy when she realized she was alone with Archie—Peter having already fallen asleep—and she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and glanced up at him through her lashes. The warmth from the fire and her slight drowsiness created an intoxicating mix—not least of all helped with the addition of Archie looking at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

“Do you—would you like to sit down?” he asked softly, reaching out his hand.

She smiled and took it, sparks shooting from the contact of skin, and she followed him to the chairs by the fire. She shook her head when he gestured towards the empty rocking chair and pressed him down gently into his chair before taking a seat on his lap.

Perhaps she wasn’t feeling quite _so_ shy.

He smiled, though she could sense he was a little tense. It made her relax slightly, to know that he was a bit nervous, too, and she wanted to make him relax in turn.

She clasped her hands around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Hello,” she breathed.

“Hi,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her lips before meeting her eyes, and she thought she saw a hint of colour on his cheeks and ears.

She shuffled down slightly and rested her head on his shoulder, still unsure of how to proceed. Everything had changed between them, and yet, she was thrilled that they had their evening together, the same as it had always been.

Well, not quite the same.

For a little while, they were silent, both watching the fire. Ruby revelled in the warmth of him, the feel of his heartbeat under his shirt, and heat bloomed in her chest as he began to stroke her arm.

“I was thi—”

“You’re re—”

They both began at once and stopped, laughing together, and Ruby felt the vibrations of his chest. She tilted her head back slightly to meet his gaze.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers.

“I was only going to say, I can’t believe this is real,” she replied, feeling a blush of her own creep across her cheeks. “I know that sounds silly, but for weeks I’d been dreading this day, never dreaming that it could end up… well, like this.”

Archie gave her a squeeze. “Me, too.”

After another pause, Ruby spoke. “Were you going to say something?” she asked, gazing into the fire.

Archie cleared his throat. “I was only going to say that, with all of this—I mean, this is a big change, and—we can, well—take things slowly.”

Ruby smiled to herself, touched by his thoughtfulness.

When she didn’t say anything he gave her another squeeze. “What are you thinking?” he murmured into her hair, hitting a deep tone that made his voice raspy, touching something in her core.

Ruby licked her lips and sat up so she could see him better. She wove her fingers into his hair, a playful urge washing over her. “I’m thinking… I love that you’re concerned, but… let’s not take things too slowly.” She leaned forward, her breath fanning over his lips before she pressed her mouth to his. His grip tightened on the small of her back and she grinned against his lips, delighted to see the effect she had on him as he kissed her back. She’d been pretty sure, of course, but now she was certain.

She sat up slightly and stroked the nape of his neck, playing with curls at his collar.

“If you’ve been in love with me, why were you so distant these last weeks?” Ruby asked, frowning slightly as she ran one hand across his forehead and along his hairline.

He held her close. “I didn’t want to force anything on you,” he admitted. “It was because I felt so much for you that I had to be careful—especially after… well, when we planted the garden and, um, got a little carried away, I thought—I thought you regretted it. So I didn’t want you to be in that position again. Though, goodness, it was absolute torture.”

Ruby bit her lip and raised her brows. “Torture?” she asked with a smirk. “You’re playing to my vanity, Archie Hopper.”

He slowly pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss before pulling back. “It’s the truth,” he replied. “Besides, I can’t believe I was anything but obvious in my attraction.” She could just barely feel his thumb stroking the small of her back, and she wish she could remove some of her layers. And yet— _slow_ was the operative word.

“I might have picked up on something,” she replied. “But I guess I was too self-centred to notice much. All I could see was that you’d changed your mind—or that I’d read you wrong in the first place.”

“You… didn’t read me wrong,” he assured her, his voice alone sending a shiver through her. He held her gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes lower and pressing his lips to her chin. Ruby tilted her head back by instinct as he trailed hot kisses down her neck, agonizingly slow. His touch awakened something in her that had been buried for so long, an animalistic desire that stirred from its slumber.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, her eyes closed until the kisses stopped. She opened them to see he was grinning at her. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

A hint of a blush coloured his cheeks. “Been married?” he said, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “No.” He turned more serious before adding, “I’ve been with a woman before in my youth but, uh, a lot has changed since then.”

Ruby’s expression softened and she ran one hand through his hair. She could sense that his experience was tied to a part of his past that he was not proud of, and though she certainly didn’t hold it against him, she thought better of asking more, knowing he didn’t want to talk about it—not in this moment.

She changed the subject to something more agreeable—and something she was dying to know.

“So, Archie,” she said placing both hands on his shoulders and twisting her torso slightly to face him. “There is something I have to ask.”

“Oh?” he asked, his brow furrowed with his lips quirked in a smile, his hands around her waist.

“I still don’t know how old you are.”

Archie let out a laugh before Ruby clapped one hand over his mouth.

“Sh-h-h! Don’t wake the boys.”

Archie mumbled an apology against her palm, and, satisfied, she removed it.

“I’m thirty-seven,” he said quietly before chuckling at her reaction. “I… can’t tell if that’s good or bad.”

“I just—you do _not_ look that old.”

“Oh, I’m old, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” Ruby replied and silenced him with a kiss before he could say anything more. Each touch sent a thrill through her, though hidden underneath was a bittersweet memory, a haze of a ghost that she wanted to ignore. He let out a happy sigh and relaxed under her touch, her hands wandering up his neck before returning to his shoulders, and she gently pulled back.

Then, another question popped into her head. “Archie, when is your birthday?” He gave her a sheepish smile, and she groaned. “It’s already passed, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “February twenty-first,” he said quietly.

“Archie,” she groaned again, burying her face in his chest before he guided her upright.

“It’s okay,” he assured her with a chuckle. “You were too busy getting ready for the baby, and I never make a fuss about my birthday, anyway.”

Ruby smiled softly. “Well, that will have to change,” she murmured, her lips a breath away from his. One hand trailed up to his cheek, and she could see emotion well up in his eyes, flickering in the firelight, as she relaxed in his arms.

“You’ll be here for my next birthday,” he murmured back, as if their reality had only just dawned on him.

“I’ll be here for all your birthdays,” Ruby assured him, stroking his cheek with her thumb as emotion swelled in her chest, her own eyes tearing up as they flitted back and forth to study his.

He closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers, hugging her close. His hands travelled up her back and held her to him while she cupped his face and straightened, sitting up on his lap. She dared to press her tongue to his lips and he parted them slightly, allowing her to deepen the kiss. Her head swam as he kissed her back, both hungry as hands wandered, and Ruby felt her pulse quicken. She’d been wanting this for so long, this closeness, and the weight of him, the heat of him pressed up against her, his lips on her skin, was intoxicating

He was the first to pull back, and Ruby was slightly disappointed to break the contact—though she noted he was panting slightly along with her. His hands shifted to her waist and she slid her palms down to his chest, his toned muscles from days spent doing manual labour evident through his shirt.

“So, I have to ask you—when is _your_ birthday?” he asked, his gaze lazily taking in her features.

“August eighth,” Ruby replied with a slow smile. “I’ll be twenty-two.”

“Ah—so you’re twenty-one.”

“That’s generally how birthdays work, yes.”

Archie grinned at her teasing as she traced the deep dimples that framed his mouth, her touch feather-light. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Does that… surprise you? My age, I mean?” With their difference in ages confirmed, she realized she cared even less, though perhaps it should have mattered more, now that they were to be fully husband-and-wife. And yet, many couples had larger gaps between their ages.

“I think we have enough in common,” he replied, and Ruby murmured her agreement.

She couldn’t help but add with a chuckle, “Though it may still seem odd sometimes to remember that I’m a mother to a ten-year-old.”

“It’s definitely not the usual way to form a family,” he agreed with a laugh before turning more serious, “but I think you’ve been his mother for awhile now.”

Ruby’s features softened at that. She realized the truth in his words, and it made warmth bloom in her chest. “Yeah.”

They looked at each other in silence for a few moments—entranced with each other, the physical reality under their fingertips. Ruby’s breath hitched in her throat as Archie brought one hand up from her back to trace her cheek, trailing down her jaw and neck, the light touch sending shivers to her core.

His eyes locked with hers, dark with longing in the golden light, and Ruby all but held her breath as his fingers tipped her chin up and drew a kiss from her lips, slow and tender. She closed her eyes, breathing him in as she returned his kiss, her heart swollen in her chest in a mess of emotions. She pressed her hands flat against his chest between their bodies, inching them lower down his stomach, a thirst growing within her while her heart beat out a warning. His hands slid around her, and she delighted in the feel of his arms around her, enveloping her before one hand slid lower, down her side to the small of her back. His kisses grew more eager, and Ruby’s head began to spin as her body and her heart clanged against each other.

She gripped his shirt as their kisses grew in fervour, and her heart raced as his hands wandered down her back. _Yes!_ One hand dipped lower, and he pressed his tongue to her lips in a request to deepen the kiss as she felt his hand on her rear. _No!_ Ruby’s heart lurched in her throat and she pulled back, breaking their kiss with a soft smack as a shudder ran through her. _I don’t know!_

She opened her eyes, her breathing heavy as she furrowed her brows, pained at the idea that she’d misled him. His hands flew up to the middle of her back and his features creased in concern.

“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

The fact that he was apologizing, along with the worry on his face, made her heart melt. She felt the urge to kiss his forehead—to smooth away the wrinkle between his brows—rise in her chest, confusing her even more.

“No, I’m sorry,” she breathed before licking her lips, suddenly feeling very small. “I—I want this. It’s just, I—I haven’t… no one’s touched me like this since—since Peter.” The realization struck her with more force than she anticipated, and her voice grew faint as she said the name. Why couldn’t she just enjoy this?

She should have known she needn’t have worried, however. Archie’s features relaxed in a warm smile, and the butterflies in Ruby’s chest instinctively set to fluttering in the midst of the chill that was determined to settle under her skin.

“Of course,” he murmured. His voice was enough to warm her through, but it was his smile, full of understanding, that chased away any sadness that might threaten to haunt her. “We have all the time in the world.” He gave her a slight squeeze before he continued, his eyes fixed on her. “You have to know, I don’t—I don’t want to replace Peter. Your time with him will always be important.”

Ruby smiled softly. “I know,” she whispered. “And you have no idea how much that means to me.” She opened her mouth to say more but realized that no words came. She relaxed in his arms and Archie pressed a kiss to her forehead. She felt herself opening up, the bud of new life that had been sprouting for months beginning to show its petals.

Archie gave her another squeeze. “I’m just going to put another log on the fire,” he whispered before shifting out from under Ruby. She watched him reach out towards the pile of logs before he crouched down and placed them on top of the embers, leaning one on top the other. He blew on the red-hot remnants, causing the new logs to burst into small flames that licked up the sides, the dim light quickly growing yellow-bright.

Her gaze wandered to Archie—her husband—and his deliberate movements, and how she could discern the muscles of his back through his shirt. As the cabin grew brighter, warmth flooded Ruby, slouched in the chair with her arms hugging her middle. She grinned at him when he stood up and turned around, flashing her his signature smile that lit up his face, even when it was hidden in the shadows.

She stood up to let him return to his chair, his hands settling around her waist to guide her back to his lap. She nestled back against his chest into the crook of his arm and shoulder, his chin resting on her head and one hand tracing her arm while the other rested on her knee as if they’d been sitting together all their lives. The butterflies sprung to life in Ruby’s chest, a familiar bubbling warmth at how natural this intimacy came.

This was the first time in a long time that she had ever felt so _safe_.

They sat like that for awhile, watching the fire in its dance, the flames leaping higher until they began to fade to glowing embers for the countless time that night. Archie’s hand wandered from Ruby’s knee to find her hand, and she smiled when his fingers cautiously intertwined with hers. After a few moments, he slowly brought her hand up and brushed his lips against her fingers, as if absentmindedly, and Ruby’s pulse quickened, every sense completely aware of his touch. She hummed in pleasure, and he pressed his lips to her knuckles more deliberately, kissing each finger one by one.

A surge of affection flooded Ruby, and she turned slightly, tilting her head up to press her lips to his jaw. He froze, waiting for her lead as she pressed one kiss, then another, to his chin. Then, he turned his head, meeting her kisses to guide her lips to his, and she smiled into the kiss with another hum.

The kiss was chaste, though lingering, and eventually they pulled apart, as if they were both reluctant to break contact. Ruby nestled into him, returning her gaze to the fire without seeing it, her whole body warm and her head a little fuzzy. She couldn’t deny the heaviness in her limbs—and her eyelids, which annoyingly fluttered closed once or twice—not wanting to break whatever spell surrounded them in this moment.

Archie was silent before he took a deep breath. “It’s getting late,” he murmured against her ear, sending shivers through her as his lips brushed the sensitive skin. “And in the spirit of taking things slow, I thought—I’ll leave you to the bedroom, and I’ll take my cot.”

Ruby shifted in his arms, realizing she had slipped lower on his lap. “Nuh-uh,” she murmured in protest at the thought of moving anywhere, much less to a cold bed.

Archie gave a low chuckle. “It’s fine—everything’s still set up. We can figure everything out soon enough,” he explained, as if that was the reason she objected.

A pang of disappointment hit Ruby, followed by a glimmer of appreciation. She buried her face in his chest and nodded reluctantly, and Archie brushed his hand across her temple and kissed her head.

Ruby groaned as Archie stood up, his arm around her waist as the action forced her to find her footing. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit like August, wishing they didn’t have to call an end to the night, but the thought of the pillow and quilts that awaited her did hold a certain appeal…

She slipped her hand in Archie’s and led him to the bedroom, turning around in front of the door to bid him goodnight. He took her other hand in his while they both looked at each other, swaying, neither one speaking as if they could delay another goodbye—however temporary.

“Goodnight,” Ruby finally murmured as she took in every detail of the man in front of her, “…husband.” The word, meant to hold a teasing tone, hung between them, a sincere declaration waiting for its other half.

Archie licked his lips and smiled, taking a step closer to limit any space between them until Ruby could feel his breath fanning her face. He dropped one of her hands and brought it up to cup her cheek, and she held her breath as warmth bloomed from his touch.

“Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his voice so raspy and full with adoration that Ruby thought her heart might burst. The declaration was sealed with a kiss, soft and tender, and Ruby instinctively relaxed into him, pressing herself to him to submit to the kiss completely.

They broke apart, both frozen as they searched each other’s eyes. It took everything in Ruby to take a step back and release his hand, stumbling into the bedroom as the door gave way behind her. She kept her eyes on his as she stepped behind the door, closing it slowly so she could see him for as long as possible, committing every curve of him to memory for the sweet dreams that awaited her.


	32. A New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new life means new arrangements for Ruby and Archie and August.

Ruby awoke in the early hours to Peter’s cries for his feeding. She thought nothing of it at first, her body going through the motions in the familiar space. As her senses sharpened, she remembered all that had passed the day before, and she smiled and held Peter tighter. They could have been miles away in a dank, crowded wagon—or, more likely, trying to make a bed of the hard ground.

Another wave of happiness washed over her, warming her from tip to toes despite the darkness of the room. And while she was grateful for the shelter of the cabin, there was something else that made her heart rejoice within her.

Peter settled quickly, his eyes fluttering closed as she rocked him, pulling her nightdress up before wrapping him in his blanket. She laid him gently in the cradle by her bed and rocked him for a few moments to ensure he was asleep. Then, she bit her lip, unable to keep herself from following through on a delicious idea.

With a final glance over the bedroom to ensure her sons—her _sons!_ —were both asleep, Ruby slipped out of the bedroom, propping the door open so she could keep an ear out for any trouble. She padded her way around the kitchen table, feeling her way along the hard edge, before she came to the curtained room at the back of the cabin.

There wasn’t enough light to see by, and she had to feel her way to the cot. Her hand landed on a wool blanket, a lump underneath that Ruby decided must be her husband’s leg. She ran her hand along the bed until she felt the edge of the blanket, and she pulled it back and climbed into the cot. She cringed as it squeaked under her weight.

“Hmm?” Archie muttered, his confusion evident at being woken in the middle of the night.

Ruby grinned to herself in the darkness. Her heart began to pound, and a thrill ran up her spine as she backed into him, pressing her body up against his, the heat of him a delicious contrast to the chill of the cabin. “Sh-h-h, it’s just me,” she whispered, her voice pitched far higher than normal.

“Mmm,” Archie murmured, wrapping one arm around her, and Ruby lifted herself up slightly so he could reach under her to hold her tight. She stretched, pressing herself flush against him, and she all but giggled in delight as he buried his face in her hair. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be half so brazen if he was aware of himself. That they needed to be as close as possible to both fit on the makeshift bed was the furthest thing from their minds—the practical benefit of being so close a fortunate accident.

She held her breath, hearing his breathing even out as he dozed off, and she grinned to herself again. For a little while, she was too excited to fall asleep, and she simply basked in the heat of his body and being safely wrapped in his arms with nothing between them but their thin nightshirts.

She hugged his arm to her chest, her muscles relaxed against him as if by memory. She’d craved this kind of physical intimacy for so long, it was like a balm to a deep ache that had become a part of her, finally melting away. Now that she knew Archie wanted her as much as she wanted him in every kind of way, it was like she had finally found the missing piece of herself, his line of music that was created to join hers, a beautiful melody brought to completion. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, overwhelmed by the life that was finally hers.

 

* * *

 

Ruby awoke to a shrill cry.

“Ma! Pa!”

She bolted upright, panic seizing her, and her only thought was to close the distance between her and August, barely aware of Archie shifting on the mattress behind her.

Before she could call out, the boy threw back the curtain. “Pa! Mama’s gone!”

“August!” Ruby cried, throwing her arms around him, her heart breaking at the sight of sheer panic in his eyes. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

For a fraction of a moment, he froze, until recognition thawed his limbs and he threw his arms around her, squeezing for dear life.

“Sh-h-h-h, Sweetheart, I’m right here,” she cooed, cupping the back of his head and stroking his hair, her chest tight to see him so upset. Archie hurried over and crouched down beside them. He placed his hand on the boy’s back and began to rub.

After a few moments, August pulled back. Ruby squeezed his arm as they knelt in front of each other, and she brushed his hair out of his face and wiped his eyes.

“Mama,” he breathed, his features softening as his eyes flitted over her face, as if taking her in.

“Yeah,” Ruby said, her eyes welling up to hear him call her that. “I promise, I’ll always be right here—I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, a grin spread across his face, and he threw his arms around her neck. She laughed and hugged him back, her heart a whole mess of emotions as a couple of stray tears tumbled down her cheeks. She glanced over at Archie, noticing his own eyes welling up as he smiled back at her.

A sudden wail sounded from the bedroom, and Archie placed his hand on her shoulder before he stood up. “I’ll get him,” he assured her, and she nodded, her hands still full with August. Archie grabbed his glasses from the windowsill before he hurried across the cabin and disappeared into the bedroom.

Ruby leaned back on the balls of her feet as August pulled away from their embrace, and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hands. She swallowed the lump in her throat, the boy of ten looking much younger as he tried his best to collect himself. She kept her grip tight on his arms, though whether to assure him or herself, she wasn’t sure.

“I didn’t see you in your bed,” he explained, dropping his gaze. He shrugged and looked up. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby replied. “I was just here with your pa.” She felt her cheeks warm at the thought of sharing Archie’s bed, and she said no more. They would just have to figure out their sleeping arrangements sooner rather than later, it seemed.

With one last hug, mother and son stood up as Archie joined them with baby Peter in his arms.

“I think his older brother gave him a bit of a scare,” Archie said with a chuckle. The baby’s cries faded to a few whimpers as his father bounced him gently. The sight warmed Ruby through, and for the countless time, she felt a lump of emotion rise in her throat, amazed at how close she had come to leaving all of this behind.

Though the sun had barely crested the horizon, it was clear that the entire Hopper family was awake for the day. With Peter quieting in Archie’s arms, Ruby set to work lighting the stove and hearth while August dressed to prepare for his chores.

“If you can get us some eggs now, I can make scrambled eggs for breakfast,” Ruby called to him as he put his shoes on.

He nodded as he tied up the final lace. He paused after he swung open the door and looked at Archie with a frown. “Aren’t you comin’, Pa?”

Archie came up beside Ruby at the stove, his gaze fixed on August. “I’ll be out soon,” he replied with a nod. “You worry about your own chores, there.”

August let out a groan and shut the door, leaving Ruby and Archie to share knowing looks. Ruby couldn’t help but let a giggle escape.

Then, her features relaxed and the familiar warmth bloomed in her chest as Archie held her gaze. Her hands stilled mid-action, one hand gripping the handle to the coffee pot as Archie leaned close.

“Good morning, wife,” he murmured, his eyes bright with adoration.

“Good morning, husband,” she murmured back, leaning into him as if drawn by gravity. Her chest fluttered and she closed her eyes before her lips connected with his, sending sparks shooting to her core. They lingered in the kiss before pulling back, and Ruby slowly opened her eyes.

Peter began to fuss, so Archie shifted him to his side and began bouncing in place. Ruby grinned and turned her focus back to the coffee pot in front of her, boiling the water and grinding the coffee beans. The burst of aroma filled her senses, though she was already riding on adrenaline after such a start to the day.

“So, I wasn’t just dreaming last night, was I? You actually came to my bed?”

Ruby laughed as she worked, her eyes on her hands as Archie bounced the baby beside her. “Well, it was more like early morning, but yes—I did.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him shift Peter to his shoulder, turning slightly so the boy could have a good view of his mama.

“I… I liked it.”

Ruby looked over and met his gaze, her heart flipping to see how his laugh lines crinkled his eyes as he smiled at her. “Me, too.”

With the coffee beans ground and the water boiling, Ruby reached out to take Peter from Archie, revelling in the extended touch between them as their hands brushed. Ruby realized that they were still both in their nightclothes, and she felt a blush creep across her cheeks as she snuck a look at Archie.

“I-I should probably go change,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ruby bit her lip and nodded, not brazen enough to protest as she lifted Peter up and pressed her cheek to his, watching Archie disappear behind his curtain. She felt caught in the pull between herself and Archie, the desire that sparked under her skin when they were close, and the part of her that warned for caution. This was all so new.

Besides, the demands of family life were still very much at the forefront, and she quickly had to turn her attention to preparing breakfast for her boys and getting herself in a modest state. Still, despite the normality of their day, Ruby was bursting with a new energy, and she was determined to cherish every mundane detail.

Even when that meant changing Peter’s diapers and soaking them in a pail for laundry day.

There was a bit more of excitement, however, when Archie caught Ruby alone while she was making dinner. August was still outside and Peter was napping in his cradle when Archie came in from some task or another. Ruby turned towards him and beamed, elbows deep in flour as she rolled the pastry for a meat pie.

“Hey,” he greeted with a grin, sending the butterflies in her chest to flight for the countless time.

“Hello,” she chirped, watching him take his hat off and hang it up before slowing closing the distance between them.

She brushed the flour off of her hands on her apron and turned to face him. She could see the hesitancy in his features as he reached out and paused before taking her hands in his, making her heart melt all the more. She loved how dainty her hands felt wrapped in his grip.

“I was wondering,” he began, taking a step closer so her skirts brushed his trousers, “if—well, if you wanted to—if you’re ready to adjust our sleeping arrangements.” Ruby thought she could see a faint blush colour his cheeks and ears.

Ruby chuckled and took a small step towards him, their hands clasped on either side and her knees touching his. She forced her expression to remain serious, however, despite the lightness in her chest. “That sounds wise,” she replied with a firm nod. “I’d hate to cause another upset, but I’d also hate to have to spend another night in a cold bed.”

A smile slowly spread across Archie’s features. “I would hate that, too,” he murmured, his eyes crinkled behind the frames of his spectacles. Then, his features dropped. “I mean, not that I want to rush anything—we can still… take things slowly.”

Ruby grinned. “Uh huh,” she breathed, her eyes dancing as she tilted her chin up and edged her lips closer to his.

“Pa! What are you doing?”

Ruby and Archie both jumped a mile and spun around to see an unimpressed ten-year-old in the doorway, his hands on his hips as he shot an accusatory glare. “You said you’d be five minutes.”

“I was j-just making sure Miss Ru—your ma had everything taken care of for supper,” Archie stuttered before he shuffled August back outside. At the same time, Peter began to fuss in the bedroom, signaling the end of his nap—and the end of any alone time Ruby might have had with Archie.

She managed to throw him a smile before he disappeared out the main door with one son before she tended to the needs of the other.

Being a newlywed was entirely different this time around.

 

* * *

 

Archie finally got around to packing up the cot back into the lean-to after supper. Ruby marvelled at the amount of space in the back corner of the cabin, though it was barely a few feet. She also couldn’t believe that Archie and August had actually slept in the lean-to when she’d first arrived back in September. It looked uninhabitable, now crammed with tools and equipment that hadn’t quite made their way back to the new barn.

Ruby stood in the doorway to the lean-to as Archie shoved the folded-up skeleton of the cot into a nook by the wall. He emerged from the space and put his arm around her, and she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“I think I can safely say that your, uh, sleeping arrangements have vastly improved,” she teased, earning herself a squeeze.

“I couldn’t agree more, Mrs. Hopper,” Archie replied, and the words sent a thrill through her.

 _Mrs. Hopper_.

August, however, was less pleased with the arrangements. “All four of us are gonna sleep in there?” he asked, jumping up from his seat in front of the fire when his parents reminded him it was time for bed.

“‘Going to’,” Archie corrected, his expression firm, “and yes.”

“But Pa, there’s not enough beds.”

Ruby pursed her lips, more than happy to let Archie take the lead on the issue.

Archie took a step towards August and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Well, Son, you see—now that your ma and I are, well, your ma and pa, we are going to be sharing the main bed now.”

“Don’t you want your own bed like you’ve been doing?”

Archie shook his head, and Ruby was almost certain she saw mischief in his eyes that he fought hard to suppress. “No, August. I’m very certain that I don’t. It’s just… what mas and pas do.”

“But why would you want to share a bed in the middle of summer when you can have your own bed?” he replied, his tone holding more than a hint of a whine.

“I’m afraid that’s all the explanation you’re going to get,” Archie said, and—though he appeared perfectly calm—Ruby could tell by the slightly higher pitch in his voice that he was starting to get annoyed. She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

August seemed to pick up on the tone, too, and easily gave way to the gentle push his father gave him towards the bedroom while Archie threw Ruby a look over his shoulder.

That night passed much in the same way as one before—with kisses both shy and slightly exploring—though with one change. Having had so little sleep the night before, Ruby and Archie were far less willing to stay up so late, which may have been greatly aided by the fact that they did not have to part for the night. Ruby did appreciate, however, that Archie left her to the privacy of the bedroom to change while he did the same in the corner of the cabin that had up until now been his own room. She felt silly, but they still found themselves navigating the new dynamic between them.

She jumped when a knock sounded at the bedroom door, and she chuckled to herself. She crossed the room, throwing a glance to the baby in the cradle and August in his bed, as if they could sense the presence of another person about to enter. Ruby held her breath before she opened the door, for in a way, it marked another big change.

This would be the first time that the bedroom would also be Archie’s since she’d arrived.

“Can I come in?” Archie asked from the other side, barely audible through the wood.

“Of course!” Ruby said, her cheeks flushing as if she’d been caught in her daydream.

The door swung open to reveal Archie and his smile, which she could just make out by the small flame of the lantern that sat on the bedside table.

“Hello,” Ruby murmured, dipping her gaze as she took his hand.

“Hello,” he murmured back, his smile widening to deepen his dimples and crinkle his eyes.

She led him to the foot of the bed, where they parted briefly, making their way to either side. Ruby took her side that was near the middle of the room with Peter’s cradle while Archie walked around to the side that had very little room between the bed and the wall.

Ruby felt her cheeks flush as she pulled the quilts back and climbed into bed. Archie did the same—a seemingly ordinary motion—but Ruby’s chest fluttered as the weight of him settled on the mattress beside her.

She reclined against the pillows and turned on her side to face Archie, holding herself up against the pull of his weight. They were mere inches apart, and Ruby could swear she could feel the charge between their skin, as if sparks would crack in the air between them like lightning strikes between clouds in a storm. And yet, she wasn’t quite ready to give in to his gravity, to tumble over the edge and be consumed completely. Not quite yet.

Archie propped himself up on his elbow, holding himself over her slightly, while they both silently looked at each other. Ruby kept her hands close to her stomach, clasped together, unsure of what to do.

“I, uh… should we blow the lamp out?” Archie asked.

Ruby let out a nervous giggle. “Of course.” She flipped over to her other side and lifted herself up to lean over to the table, grateful for a moment to collect herself, hidden from Archie’s gaze. She cupped her hand around the side of the glass and blew, extinguishing the flame from the wick, sending up a curl of smoke to gently rise in the now-darkened room.

She turned back around, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light as she searched for Archie’s features.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Would you, um—could you put my glasses on the table, please?” He took them off and folded them up before handing them to Ruby, their fingers brushing as she took them before she turned around once more.

“Sorry,” he murmured after she turned back. “That’s the last request, I promise.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assured him, lowering herself onto her pillow and letting her gaze linger over his every feature, no longer hidden. He always looked more different than she expected without his spectacles, and the intimacy made her heart beat faster. No longer shielded, she could let her gaze roam over her favourite features—his eyes, bright and full of tenderness, and framed by laugh lines that deepened when he smiled to match his dimples. A vulnerability only meant for her.

Archie’s large frame filled much of the bed, and Ruby was highly aware of their proximity as she balanced herself to keep from rolling into him, aware of where each of her limbs were placed and delighting in the warmth coming from his body so close to hers. She held her breath, wondering what to do next, or who would make the first move. She couldn’t deny she was tired, but every fibre in her buzzed in anticipation of this newness.

“I—are you comfortable? Um, how did you want to do this?” Archie asked, and Ruby smiled at the care in his voice—along with the slight nervousness.

“Just like this is fine,” she assured him. He settled down on the bed, lying on his pillow to face her, and Ruby let herself relax into him, her body rolling slightly into his.

She held her breath as he brought one hand up her arm, resting on top of the quilt, and gently trailed it down from her shoulder to her elbow and back up again. The touch alone sent shivers through her, and she bit her lip.

“Are you cold?” he asked softly.

Ruby shook her head. “No, no.” She licked her lips as she tried to find the words to voice even a fraction of what her body and heart were telling her. “This is nice,” she finally said.

“Mmhmm,” he breathed. After a pause, he brought his hand up to her cheek and traced her jaw. Slowly, he trailed his fingers to her chin and tipped it upwards, bringing her lips to his. Ruby closed her eyes as she savoured the taste of his kiss, her heart full as warmth flooded her body to the tips of her toes.

“Good night,” he whispered after pulling back.

“Good night,” she replied, unable to keep a grin from spreading.

She took one of his hands in hers and pressed it to her chest as she curled into his middle and closed her eyes. She breathed in deeply, her head light at the scent of him and the pressure of his arm around her, the feeling of being surrounded by him. She quickly drifted off to sleep to the sound of his even breathing, a lullaby that promised she was finally safe.

 

* * *

 

The next thing Ruby knew, she was waking to Peter’s fussing beside her. She blinked the sleep from her eyes as her mind took a few moments to recognize her surroundings. The view was the same, but something was _different_.

She grinned as she realized Archie’s arms were around her and his head was resting on the back of her neck.

Slowly, she moved to entangle herself from his embrace, almost giddy with this new scene of domesticity. Peter’s cries began to grow, and Ruby slipped from Archie’s grasp, despite the groan that rose from him as he reached for her.

“There, there, Precious,” Ruby murmured as she leaned over the cradle. She scooped the baby up, eager to soothe his cries before he woke up his big brother or his pa. Ruby threw a glance to the bed in front of her to see August turn away, half asleep aside from the huff of protest at being disturbed.

Peter’s whimpers stopped once he made contact, and Ruby beamed down at him in her arms.

“Is everything alright?” a raspy voice asked behind her, and Ruby threw a look over her shoulder to see Archie opening his eyes.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered, though she didn’t feel as sorry as she should have when he sat up behind her.

“Ummhmm,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Ruby delighted in his presence behind her, the warmth of him as he rubbed her back while Peter contentedly sucked. Though she’d gone through these motions countless times, a lump rose in her throat as she realized she now had someone to share these moments with—someone who cherished them as much as she did.

Now fed, Peter was returned to his cradle and tucked in snugly before Ruby adjusted her nightdress. She fell back into her husband’s arms as he wrapped them around her chest and kissed her ear, and they lay down together, both quick to give into the happy weight of sleep.


	33. A Neighbourly Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nolans drop in on their neighbours for the first time after the whirlwind of events.

The quiet moments were cherished even more, given their rarity with two young boys to care for. Ruby and Archie barely had time for murmured “good mornings” before the obligations of the day forced them up. While they navigated this next chapter, Ruby also realized how easily the little things came—a shared smile, a squeeze to the shoulder, a kiss on the cheek. She delighted in the sparks evident in the ordinary moments, no longer held back or over-analyzed.

She was truly home.

Another surprise came in the form of an unexpected—but dearly welcomed—visit from Mary Margaret and David. Ruby rushed outside to greet their neighbours when she heard Pongo bark his greeting to the wagon that drew to a stop, and she laughed to see her joy mirrored in her dear friend’s face.

“Oh, I knew you’d stay!” Mary Margaret exclaimed as she took her husband’s hand and hopped down from the wagon, baby Leo resting on her hip. Emma quickly scrambled down from the back.

Ruby grinned as she hugged her friend, her heart lighter than she’d ever thought possible, and tears welled up as her emotions rose to the surface for the countless time.

“I’m glad somebody did,” Ruby said with a wet chuckle as they pulled back.

“I tried to convince her that we should give you two some space, but she insisted that one day was enough,” David teased with a grin of his own as he shook Archie’s hand.

“David!” Mary Margaret chastised with a swat, though her eyes were merry. She turned back to Archie and Ruby. “Though he might be right. It’s been torture not knowing everything!”

Ruby beamed at Archie as he placed his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. Ruby thought she would burst from happiness, as if the presence of their friends was one of the last pieces of the puzzle, confirming that this was all, indeed, very real.

“Oh!” Ruby exclaimed with a start. “What am I doing, making you stand around? Please, come in!” She took Mary Margaret’s arm and led her inside, leaving Archie to converse with David and the children to play outside in the June sun.

Mary Margaret placed Leo on the rug in front of the fireplace—unlit, given the warm weather—beside Peter in his cradle. As Mary Margaret unfastened her bonnet, Ruby grabbed some toy blocks from a nearby shelf and placed them in front of Leo. Then, she turned her attention to making some coffee, boiling some more water and measuring out the coffee grinds.

“Soon these two will be running around together like August and Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a chuckle.

Ruby nodded, a lump rising in her throat at the realization that Peter would grow up with such friends—such family. “I can hardly believe it,” she said after a swallow.

Soon enough, the coffee was served, along with some cookies. Ruby made a mental note to do some more baking when she noticed the low level in the tin, and she smiled to recognize the evidence of celebration over the last day. Still, she’d need to replenish for August’s birthday.

Mary Margaret wasted no time in her questions, and Ruby delighted in her friend’s candour. “So, how have you been? What happened?”

Ruby grinned and wrapped her hands around her cup. “I—I don’t know!” she said with a laugh. “It’s all been such a blur.”

Mary Margaret nodded. “I’m sure. Truth be told, I couldn’t believe that you were going through with it. David and I saw you head into town and I thought my heart was going to break for you all. And then, the next thing I know, Archie’s tearing into our place and begging to use our horse! I knew the moment I saw him exactly what he was doing. It was like something out of a novel!” She placed her hand over her heart for emphasis.

Ruby smiled before she furrowed her brow in confusion. “Do you know, I don’t know what made him change his mind,” she confessed before taking a sip of coffee, her features relaxing. “I just thought that he didn’t want us enough, and I couldn’t stay if it was just going to be part of some bargain.” She shuddered at the thought, remembering the pain of their miscommunication, somehow so fresh and so distant all at once.

“Of course,” Mary Margaret replied, her features soft in understanding as she reached out and squeezed Ruby’s arm. “But anyone could see he’s been head over heels for you for ages,” she added with a chuckle as she sat back. “You two were both pining over each other like the most star-crossed pair of lovers I’d ever seen, and I had half a mind to tell you as much!”

Ruby’s eyes widened, though her grin stayed in place. “Why _didn’t_ you?!”

Mary Margaret shook her head. “It wasn’t my place to say,” she explained, “though heaven knows I wanted to. David reminded me that some things need to be left to the two people involved.”

“Well, we came far too close to ruining it all on our own,” Ruby said, holding her mug close as her heart sank for a brief moment. “I’ll… I’ll have to ask Archie what made him come after me after all.”

Mary Margaret leaned closer. “Was it very romantic?”

Ruby bit her lip and nodded. “It really was. Here I was, Peter and I packed tight in this wagon with all of these other women, and I heard his voice calling my name.” She took a sip of her coffee and swallowed. “I thought I was crazy at first—as if I wanted it so badly I was hearing things—but then I realized that it wasn’t my imagination after all. I finally saw him riding towards us, and I thought my heart would burst from my chest.” Ruby trailed off, transported by the memory of how her heart galloped out to Archie before he’d even reached the wagon.

Mary Margaret sighed from across the table.

“I have to admit, I can’t remember every detail—it was hard to take everything in, it happened so fast—but the next thing I knew, he’s telling me he loves me and wants us to stay, and I’m telling him I love him, and then we’re being swooped away back home.”

“That’s so lovely,” Mary Margaret breathed. “Just like your own little fairy tale.”

Ruby chuckled. “I suppose so.” She breathed deeply as she let the idea settle within her—that, after all that had happened, they had found their own little happy ending with each other.

She noticed Mary Margaret giving her a funny smile. “What is it?” she asked, furrowing her brow despite the smile permanently formed on her lips.

“I’m just so happy for you both,” her friend replied. “Perhaps it’s selfish, but I couldn’t bare the thought of you leaving us—and now we get to raise our families together!” Mary Margaret laughed along with Ruby before she turned more serious. “You and Archie are so good together. I—I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been this year with you—and Peter.”

Ruby searched her friend’s eyes that confirmed the words she spoke, and it made her heart nestle under her throat. It was high praise, indeed, coming from one of her husband’s closest friends. She imagined the smiles he’d flashed her over the last day or so, her heart fluttering in her chest, and she stole Mary Margaret’s words deep in her heart, another treasured piece of evidence that this new life was real.

“I… I can’t imagine being anywhere else,” Ruby trailed off before finishing lamely, unable to voice her deepest thoughts. She was so used to hiding them from herself, let alone those around her, and they still felt so strange and new—so precious—to speak aloud.

“So…” Mary Margaret began after a moment, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “This room sure looks bigger without the beds in the corner.”

Ruby’s eyes widened, and she let out a chuckle. “We, uh—I mean, we haven’t yet, but—it was just yesterday, since I scared August a bit the first night…” she trailed off as she realized how little sense she made. “We moved the cot out yesterday, so last night was the first night Archie was in the bedroom.” Ruby felt her cheeks warm. “We haven’t… yet, especially since August is confused as to why his pa doesn’t want to keep his own bed.”

Mary Margaret chuckled. “I’m sure it’s not the easiest thing to… coordinate.”

“We’re taking things slow,” Ruby explained, her pulse beating quicker. She felt caught between wanting to get her friend’s advice on the delicate situation while not being ready to deal with the subject just yet. “It’s, um—it’s all very different this time around.” She was no means inexperienced in the area, but she’d not had to navigate such complicated emotions before, with memories of her first husband still fresh and trying to manoeuvre around a ten-year-old boy.

Before she could say more, the door swung open, revealing the redhead in question. His eyes were bright and he was panting.

“Mama—Pa says—you should come—outside with us. The weather’s awful nice.” He threw a glance to the other woman. “Oh, hi, Auntie Mary Margaret.”

Mary Margaret grinned. “Hi, August.”

Ruby’s heart still skipped a beat to hear him call her “Mama”. “Tell your pa we’ll be right out,” she called out after him as he swung around and all but slammed the door behind him.

Ruby and Mary Margaret shared a look and chuckled before they gathered themselves and made their way outside. Mary Margaret collected Leo and Ruby grabbed a couple of blankets in her arms. Mary Margaret reached out, insisting she could carry them both, to leave Ruby to carry Peter and the tin of cookies.

Ruby grinned as she stepped outside and spotted Archie a few yards away with David and the children playing with a ball, and he met her gaze and grinned back. David spotted them, also, and the husbands jogged to meet their wives and relieve them of their goodies.

They settled under the cluster of trees by the side of the house, only partly shaded from the pleasant June sun, while Emma and August continued their game within view. Leo was quick to squirm out of his mother’s arms and toddle around the blanket, which kept David busy corralling his son within its confines. Ruby lay Peter on her lap, propping him up so he could watch his little friend with wide eyes. Archie sat beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder for a moment before it settled at his side on the blanket.

“I guess this means you’ll be around for the town party after all?” Mary Margaret asked.

Ruby sat up and nodded with a grin. “I will! And I’ll get to meet the new doctor, and of course, August’s birthday tomorrow.” A pang of guilt hit her at the realization that they hadn’t prepared much for the actual day, considering they’d been unprepared for this turn of events. She threw a glance to Archie. “I’ll bake some more cookies tonight,” she promised.

He grinned and reached for a cookie from the tin. “I can’t say ‘no’ to that,” he replied, his clear eyes never leaving hers as they beamed back at her in the afternoon sun.

“Well, from what I can see, he’s just happy to have his whole family with him,” Mary Margaret said, and David murmured his agreement. Ruby smiled, her eyes quickly welling up at the thought, and Archie gave her arm a squeeze.

“Have you and Belle been busy with the preparations for the party next week?” Archie asked Mary Margaret. He dropped his hand from Ruby’s arm and placed it back on the blanket between them. Ruby let her own hand rest beside it, leaving only a sliver of space. She held her breath in anticipation of his next move.

“That’s an understatement,” David jumped in, reaching for a cookie of his own. “I haven’t seen my table in weeks, but it’s been the saddest party I’ve ever seen.” He started as his wife gave him a teasing slap, and they all laughed.

“Well, it’s hard to be happy about a party when you think you’re dearest friends are about to be separated forever,” she explained, her expression mockingly serious.

Archie’s fingers brushed against Ruby’s and her breath hitched in her throat as she kept her eyes fixed on Mary Margaret. She only barely registered her friend’s words.

“We’ll all be there,” Archie replied calmly, though Ruby could sense the hint of tremour in his words.

Mary Margaret clapped her hands together before reaching for her runaway toddler. “Now it will be a true celebration,” she beamed as she returned Leo to the middle of the blanket. Her features shifted as an idea took form, her hands still around her son as he bounced in place. “Oh, what if we turn it into a little reception for the two of you?”

Ruby shrank as her cheeks warmed. “Oh, that’s not necessary…” she trailed off, recoiling from the idea of being the centre of attention. It was enough that she’d be seeing everyone in Storybrooke—some of them for the first time—that she didn’t need to be singled out even more.

“But it would be lovely to celebrate the two of you, especially since we, well, didn’t have a proper wedding.”

“I think we’ll be centred out enough as it is,” Archie added, his hand covering Ruby’s slowly. Ruby had to fight to focus on anything beyond the warmth of his touch as her mind honed in on the sensation on the back of her hand. “We don’t need all that.”

David placed his hand on his wife’s arm as she glanced around at them all.

“I understand,” Mary Margaret said, slightly deflated. “But I still think it will be about you two, a little bit.”

Ruby relaxed slightly. “I guess we have been providing the town with some solid gossip for almost a year,” she said with a chuckle, and Archie raised his brows at her before grinning and giving her hand a squeeze.

“We wouldn’t want to deny them that,” he agreed, turning back to David and Mary Margaret. “But please, nothing official.”

“That’s fair,” Mary Margaret affirmed, and with a nod of her head, it was decided. “I’m meeting with Belle tomorrow, so we’ll go over the details.”

Ruby thought she saw a knowing look pass between Mr. and Mrs. Nolan at that, and she bit back a smile.

The conversation took a turn away from herself and Archie—and the party—and Ruby was glad for the chance to visit with friends. No longer haunted by the future—or the past—she felt herself rooted in the present for the first time in a long time, savouring every detail from the warm breeze that swept across her cheeks to the sound of Emma’s and August’s laughter. It was a brief moment of indulgence, a moment in the calendar in between the planting and the harvesting when there weren’t so many duties demanding their time.

Well, almost.

“Poor David’s been spending so much time in town,” Mary Margaret told them, resting her hand on her husband’s arm. “I keep telling him that they need to find someone to be full-time sheriff, because it’s getting to be too much.”

Ruby turned her hand upward in Archie’s grasp, lacing her fingers with his.

David sighed as he grabbed Leo from taking off towards his big sister. “I don’t want to have just anybody take over that kind of job,” he replied with the tired tone of one who had said the same thing more than once, looking at Mary Margaret. He kept his wiggling toddler in his grasp, placing him firmly in his lap. “Especially with so many people coming in.”

Ruby slipped her fingers from Archie’s grasp and began to trace his palm. She heard him take a sharp breath beside her, and she bit her lip.

“I, uh, I mean, it’s nice to see Storybrooke growing, but I agree—we do, we’re going to need more,” Archie managed.

“But I don’t know that you’ll convince everyone to hire on anyone else, since there’s already the doctor coming,” David countered. “They’re not exactly going to want to pay more taxes.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mary Margaret said as she plucked a blade of grass and twirled it in her fingers. “I think everyone wants to have those services. The people who grumbled about the doctor will see the benefit soon enough, if they haven’t already.” She tried to captivate Leo’s attention with the blade of grass, but soon discovered that Peter was a much more captive audience, and she leaned towards Ruby and the baby. “Besides, we need a schoolhouse and a church, which requires a teacher and a preacher.”

Archie played his fingers over Ruby’s, joining in her game. His feather-light touch tickled her skin and she licked her lips, fighting to concentrate on the conversation. She bounced her leg lightly to release some energy, which had the added benefit of keeping Peter content.

“Exactly!” Archie agreed. “I didn’t want to press too soon, but we really should have a school and a church. If it were one building, I don’t see why we couldn’t complete it this year.”

David laughed. “I wish that were true, Archie, but you saw how long it took to convince everyone to hire the doctor. I think we need to leave it at one civic project at a time.”

Archie sighed. “I hate to say it, but you’re probably right.” He moved his fingers from Ruby’s and trailed them down her palm until he stopped at her wrist and traced patterns along the delicate skin. A small hum escaped Ruby, and she froze, keeping her gaze fixed on Leo to avoid looking at Archie.

He drummed his fingers on her wrist gently before he continued his gentle touches, and Ruby tried to keep the desire from rising to a simmer within her. _Jiminy_ Cricket, _Archie Hopper._

Ruby wasn’t entirely sure where the conversation went from there, lost to her husband’s touch. She was saved by her son’s fussing once he deemed it time for his supper, which allowed her a moment to escape and collect herself. After that, the little party realized it was time for everyone to eat, and so Ruby and Mary Margaret threw together some fixings while their husbands corralled the children and saw to the washing.

Soon enough, she and Archie were waving goodbye to the Nolans after a happy day together. The amount of things Ruby now had to look forward to hit her with full force as they had become caught up in dreaming with their friends. No longer regrets, events that would carry on without her, these plans now held the promise of blessings to come. She was also reminded of the character of the man she had married, and how much he wanted to help others.

She let out a happy sigh, still amazed that this was now her life, and Archie pressed a kiss to her temple as they turned to go inside.

 


	34. A Lazy Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie and Ruby continue to get to know each other better.

Bedtime came quickly that night, and Ruby wasn’t sorry for it. August was tired from the day of playing with Emma, and so he was quick to obey his parents’ instructions—while firmly reminding them that tomorrow was his _real_ birthday. Even Peter seemed to fall asleep early, though Ruby knew she would pay for it later.

Before she could settle down with Archie, however, there was one thing she still needed to do. There wasn’t much ready for August’s proper birthday the next day, so she was determined to make good on her promise to bake some cookies—sugar cookies, she decided.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Archie reminded her as he looked up from his books, only just out of reach from the flour she dusted onto the kitchen table before she rolled out the dough.

“Nonsense,” Ruby replied. “Everyone deserves a treat for their birthday. Especially our son.”

“He’s already had a birthday.”

“Not his _real_ birthday.”

Archie chuckled. “You’re going to spoil him,” he teased before he stood up and slowly made his way around the table. Ruby paused and furrowed her brow to make out his intentions, which were annoyingly hidden in the flickering light of the lamp.

She bit her lip and pretended to focus on her task in front of her, hunched over the kitchen table. She held her breath, every sense aware of Archie’s presence, and she waited for his next move. Her pulse quickened as he came up behind her, almost hesitant in his careful motions. He slowly wrapped his arms around her chest in a firm embrace, pinning her arms, and she relaxed against his body, desire already pooling in her middle. She tilted her head and felt the scruff of his jaw brush against her cheek.

“Does that mean I get a second birthday?” he murmured, his voice deep, and she realized her grip tightened around the table, the hard edge digging into her palms. His voice, his touch stirred the feelings that he’d coaxed to life with his fingers on her palm and wrist earlier that day.

“Umhmm,” she managed, unable to trust her body that melted like candle wax in his arms. She pulled her mind back to her surroundings, remembering her flour-covered hands and her hair that looked a mess. “But—I need to finish these first.” She paused for a beat before adding, “You can even say they’re for your birthday, too, if that means you’ll let me finish.”

His warm breath ghosted over her ear, sending shivers through her. For a moment, all was silent, and Ruby could hear her pulse beating hard.

“Alright,” he breathed with a throaty chuckle. “But only because I can’t resist your cookies.” With that, he pressed a quick kiss to her ear before he released her and returned to his seat at her side.

Ruby took a deep breath to collect herself, her cheeks warm, before she returned her focus to cutting the cookies from the roll of dough and placing them on the trays. Her motions were faster than usual, and she ignored a misshapen cookie or two. She was more than ready to finish the task, especially with Archie throwing her looks over the rims of his spectacles.

She placed the trays into the oven with a glance at the clock on the mantel while Archie finished up with his bookkeeping. The sweet aroma of baking soon filled the room as Ruby washed up at the sink, though she was only trying to kill time until the cookies were done. She could finish up with a proper washing tomorrow.

Soon—but not soon enough—the long hand on the cuckoo clock struck the fifteen minute mark, and Ruby swiftly pulled out the trays and placed them on the table. It was hard to tell in the dim light if they were finished, but the smell that wafted from the trays told her enough. Archie took it as a sign that his work was over for the evening, and he closed his books with a satisfying thud. He stood up and reached for the tray, and Ruby swatted his hand away.

“For land sakes, you need to let them cool down first!” she chastised, unable to keep her own grin from spreading to match the twinkle she saw in his eyes. “And these are for tomorrow.”

“What if my second birthday is today?” he countered, taking a step towards her.

Ruby shook her head and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, her gaze fixed on her hands as she folded the tea towel neatly and laid it on the table. “I seem to recall that you had some cookies earlier today already,” she informed him, forcing her expression to become serious as she finally met his gaze.

Archie chuckled and took her hand. “You run a tight ship,” he told her before bringing her hand to his lips. Ruby hummed in spite of herself at the sweet gesture, and her features softened.

“Yes, well, I hate to tell you, but I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.” Her voice was smaller than she intended as he positioned himself in front of her.

“Oh, I am? What a pity.” He put his other hand on the small of her back and held her close. She could see his eyes clearly by the light of the fireplace behind her. The twinkle of mischief deepened to something more sincere, and Ruby felt her breath come shallow as her pulse quickened.

“It’s a travesty,” she breathed, unable to resist the draw of him as he leaned towards her slowly. She tilted her head and closed her eyes, every nerve awaiting that sweet moment when her lips met his.

She let out another hum and she pressed her body to him while his grip on her back tightened. For a moment, she was lost to his touch, any thought for her surroundings entirely forgotten. When they pulled back, she felt herself flush, the warmth of the room apparent. How could such innocent touches—such a chaste kiss—awaken such desire so quickly?

Archie was the first to move as he led her to the chairs by the fireplace, his hand wrapped around hers. He took a seat in the larger rocking chair this time, sitting parallel to the hearth, and Ruby slid into his lap as he wrapped his arms around her waist in familiar motions. The fire was small to limit its heat in the warmer season, but Ruby still felt its effect, and she thought she noticed a hint of pink across Archie’s cheeks.

Her hands fluttered up to his neck, drawn to the bare skin easily within reach at the edge of his shirt. His eyes darkened slightly, and Ruby smiled, satisfied that her touch affected him.

“It was unfair of you to tease me so much this afternoon,” she murmured with a tilt of her head. Her fingers wandered to the sensitive skin behind his ear while her other hand remained cupped at the nape of his neck.

She could already see him starting to fight for control as he licked his lips. “I, uh—I seem to remember that you were the one to start it,” he said softly, his voice deep, his hands firmly clasped around her back.

“Nuh-uh,” she insisted, shaking her head slightly and brushing her nose against his chin. “You were the one who started touching _my_ wrist, and I could barely concentrate on the conversation. It was _torture_ ,” she finished, her lips a breath away from his before she pulled back with a sly smile.

Archie let out a big exhale before he sat back. “You liked that, huh?” He arched one brow. “I’ll have to take notes.”

Ruby scrunched her nose at him. “And I’ll just have to find _your_ weakness,” she countered, trying to make her voice as sultry as she could. In truth, she felt a little silly, but this light-hearted banter was intoxicating after the heaviness of the last couple of weeks.

Her silliness evaporated, however, when she met his eyes. Her gaze flitted back and forth, studying the clear depths as her heart lurched in her throat. He brought one hand up to cup her cheek, drawing her lips to his. She leaned up to meet him, her hands sliding to his shoulders as she returned his kisses. Her torso was twisted awkwardly, and so she raised herself up, moving one knee to the other side of his hips so she straddled his lap, her knees squished between the arms of the rocking chair. In one swift motion he slid off the chair and gently guided them to the floor, bracing against the seat of the chair with one arm with his other wrapped around her waist, and Ruby was grateful to be free from the constraints.

“Better?” he breathed as they broke apart. He stretched his legs out in front of him, with Ruby’s knees on either side of his hips.

“Mmhmm,” she murmured with a nod before kissing him again, caressing his upper lip while he kissed her back softly.

She pulled back and studied his features once more, her heart calm in her chest as it told her that this was exactly where she wanted to be—where she was _meant_ to be. Each day made this new life grow clearer, as if it was solidifying before her into a permanence that she had yearned for. No longer an apparition about to be blown away like a vapour, this man before her was solid and warm and gazed at her like she hung the moon.

“When did you know?”

“Know what?” Archie asked, pressing his forehead to hers as he splayed his hands on the small of her back.

“Know… how you felt about me. That—that you loved me.”

Archie smiled like he was remembering a joke. “That’s hard to say,” he tried to explain. “I mean, in a way, I think I fell for you when I first saw you… in the rain.” A lump rose in Ruby’s throat as she remembered the details of that day that he didn’t voice. “Even when you had lost everything, you were so beautiful—and so strong.”

Ruby licked her lips and held her breath as she hung on to his words.

“I knew without a doubt at Christmas, after our day together as a family, even before Peter had come along,” he continued, his voice warm in remembrance, and Ruby’s pulse quickened. “But it _might_ have been… when you were telling August off at the pig pen.”

Ruby’s eyebrows shot up and she had to cover her mouth to suppress a laugh, which came out as a muffled and very unladylike snort.

“It’s true! Your eyes were almost on fire and you were quick to put August in his place. I knew then that the two of you would be just fine.”

Ruby rested her forehead on Archie’s shoulder for a moment while he chuckled softly. When she sat up to meet his gaze once more, she could feel the heat in her cheeks. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Oh, I remember it.”

That earned Archie a swat, which he quickly repaid with a kiss.

Ruby grinned against his lips, lingering in the kiss for a moment before she pulled back. “So, you’re telling me you fell in love with me when I was angry with your son?”

Ruby could see the colour sweep across his cheeks. “Something like that,” he said with a chuckle before pecking her lips. Then, he frowned, though his eyes were all teasing. “Not an hour ago he was _our_ son.”

The thought struck a chord with Ruby, and her features softened, no longer feeling playful as a lump rose in her throat. “Yes,” she murmured, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek. “Our son.” The words sent a thrill through her, and she noticed tears well up in his own emotional smile.

Archie’s eyes flitted back and forth, searching hers, and he took a deep breath before he turned her question back on her. “So—I have to ask—when did you know?”

“Hmmm,” Ruby breathed, looking past him as she thought over her answer. Her hands wandered up over his shoulders and she absentmindedly clasped them around his neck. She leaned back, her weight now resting lower on his lap.

Her mind shuffled through all the little moments, like she was looking through a new photography exhibit. Precious memories that had been tucked safely in her heart rose up in her mind’s eye, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I think it came on so slowly, I had no idea it had started,” she admitted, meeting his blue eyes that were fixed on her. “You were always so kind with me, and I loved watching you with August. I think my attraction really started when I saw you as a father—first with August, and then with the baby. I—I only knew what it had felt like with Peter”—Ruby paused, worried that she’d misspoken by bringing up her first husband, but she relaxed when Archie nodded warmly—“so I didn’t know my true feelings for you until the day of the barn-raising—until it was almost too late.”

She bit her lip as she watched for Archie’s reaction. A smile of recognition washed over him. “I—I might have noticed a difference,” he said slowly, his brow furrowed though he still smiled. “I just had no idea what to make of it.”

“I was trying to get your attention, silly,” Ruby replied with a grin, tugging Archie to her by the neck as she raised herself up, closing the distance before she captured his lips. He sighed into the kiss and wrapped his arms around her back, holding her close, and Ruby’s pulse quickened as he pressed himself to her.

She resisted the urge to deepen the kiss, however, not quite ready to give in to the desire simmering under her skin that she knew would rise to a boil far too quickly. She wanted to enjoy every moment.

She pulled back and grinned as Archie leaned forward, following her lips. He slowly opened his eyes and gave her a sheepish smile, and he lowered his hands to the small of her back.

“I think I have your attention now,” she murmured, her voice low and her breath mixing with his in the small space between them.

He nodded and licked his lips. “I just—thank God that August found your letter,” he added, a pained expression creasing his features as he glanced down.

“Hey,” Ruby said softly, unable to deny that she’d thought the same thing over and over in the last few days. The phrase tugged at her heart even more, for she knew he would never use such words lightly. She brought one hand from behind his neck and guided his chin upward to bring his gaze to hers. “He did. I’m here.”

“You are,” Archie agreed, his eyes shining and wet and Ruby’s heart jumped in her chest to be the object of such adoration. He brought one hand up and cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb, and Ruby closed her eyes for a moment.

“I—I wanted to ask you to stay so badly,” he continued, his voice gentle and deep, “but I was convinced you only wanted to go home. I told myself my silence was to save you any discomfort but really… I was trying to save myself any pain.”

Ruby felt the familiar tug in her chest that had nearly broken her heart over the last few days, and while it was now only an echo of its earlier pain, the emotions came back far too quickly.

“I know,” she murmured, her eyes quickly filling with tears, and one escaped and fell down her cheek. “I was doing the same thing. I mean, with the barn fire—I had almost lost you once. I couldn’t bare to lose you again—to find out for sure that you didn’t want me.” She let out a sad chuckle. “We make quite a pair, huh?” she tried to tease, though she couldn’t quite keep her tone light.

Archie smiled in return, bittersweet. He took her face in his hands and gently pulled her to him, tilting her head down slightly. He pressed his lips to each eyelid, one after the other receiving a tender kiss, and Ruby covered his hands with hers.

“Oh, Ruby, if you only knew how much I want you,” Archie murmured before capturing her lips, and Ruby furrowed her brow as she kissed him back fiercely. Flames of desire licked under her skin, want bubbling up in her chest as Archie swept his tongue past her lips and across the roof of her mouth, chasing away all rational thought. She rose on her knees to hover over him, her hands sliding over his jaw and neck, her fingers digging into his hair like she’d imagined doing a hundred times. Archie’s hands shifted down her shoulders and her sides, wandering over her shoulder blades and back before gliding lower. She grinned against his lips when he hugged her close by her rear and gripped the fabric of her dress. Immediately, he slid his hands up to her back, and she broke their kisses.

“No, I like that,” she breathed, her lips brushing against his as his warm breath tingled her wet lips. She grinned again before capturing his lips in hungry kisses, any thought of going slowly completely abandoned as she remembered certain fantasies she’d had, and she cursed the layers of fabric she wore. She guided his hand lower, and he chuckled into their kisses in a low rasp that sent heat pulsing through her. She pressed herself to him, her hands running through his hair as she almost hugged him to her chest.

After a few moments, it was Archie who broke their kisses, and Ruby let out a happy sigh as she panted to catch her breath. She bit her lip, pleasantly swollen, both satisfied and hungry for more. Her smile widened to see how disheveled he looked in the firelight, his hair standing up on end and his glasses askew.

“Hi,” she whispered, lowering herself to his lap once more.

“Hi,” he replied, bringing his knees up so she rested in the crook of his lap. Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if the pesky layers of clothing were hiding something else as desire stirred in her middle.

The light of the hearth illuminated Archie’s smile and the flecks of red in his hair shone bright. Ruby slowly raised her hands to either side of his face. Slowly, she removed his glasses and reached to place them safely on the table behind him.

“Can you still see me?” she asked, cupping his face with both hands.

“Mmhmm,” he replied.

She reclined against his legs slightly and brought her hands up to her hair. Feeling around, she pulled out a hairpin, then another. Her eyes remained fixed on Archie as a few strands of hair began to fall around her face. He raised his eyebrows and nodded towards her, and Ruby smiled and nodded her permission. She lowered her hands to her lap and licked her lips, watching his features furrow in concentration as he brought his hands up, his gaze fixed on the top of her head and her ears. Her breath hitched in her throat as his fingers dug into her hair, searching for the little pins. He smiled slowly when he found one and gently tugged.

“It’s okay,” she assured him when he paused and looked at her.

He smiled again and resumed his task. Ruby swallowed, the act strangely intimate, and she felt her blood warm in her veins. There were only a couple more pins, and he soon released them from her tendrils. She lifted her hands and felt around just to be sure. The twist of her hair fell loose and she rose up on her knees and tilted her head back to shake her hair free, her fingers joining his as they ran through her hair.

She held her breath, shamelessly aware of the show she’d put on, and yet—it was more than that. Each gesture between them was a promise, a blood-red cord joining them together, sewing her heart to his until they would be wholly, irrevocably united. She wanted to give this to him. She wanted to give her whole self to him.

But for now, there was this.

She met his eyes once more, blue eyes beaming at her, and a lump rose in her throat. She was entirely undeserving of this man’s love, but she basked in it like the sun, her most inner self opening under its rays.

Archie slid his hands to her cheeks and cupped her face before kissing her soundly. Ruby’s hands settled on his forearms, his sleeves rolled up at his elbows, his ginger hair soft under her fingertips as she returned his kisses, eagerly sweeping her tongue past his lips to deepen the kiss. She rose on her knees once more and slid her hands to his neck. Hovering over him, her hair tumbled down, framing their faces. He dug his hands into her hair, burying them against her skin, and his touch sent sparks shooting through her. All thought for the past or the future was nonexistent, and Ruby was lost to the sensations fluttering over her skin, pounding in her core, the heat of the fire a pale comparison to the imprint of his fingers and lips on her skin.

Ruby lowered herself again, her legs unable to hold her as a wave of desire washed over her. She moved her kisses from his mouth, lips pressed against the place where his dimples formed before trailing down his jaw across the hint of stubble.

As if to help her reach, he sat up straighter and tilted his head back as his hands wandered over her shoulders. Ruby eagerly trailed lower down his throat, resisting the urge to nip. As it was, her lips alone drew a moan from him—she could feel the rumble through the delicate skin—and Ruby grinned against his neck. She pressed one last kiss just above his collar bone where his shirt was annoyingly buttoned before she sat up.

His eyes searched hers, more quickly this time, and satisfaction bloomed in her chest to see how his breaths came short. The thought of how much she wanted to explore every inch of him—to have his tender hands caress her every surface—flew through her mind, and she swallowed the image down.

_Not yet._

Besides, they were still far too clothed for much more, though Ruby spotted one last indulgence. Archie leaned his forehead to hers, his hand back to her neck, caressing, feeding the flames that licked under her skin, while Ruby brought her hands to his front. She slid her hands over his chest, the fabric of his shirt unable to hide the muscles underneath, until her fingers rested over the few buttons at the top. His chest rose and fell deeply as she slowly undid each button, one by one, to reveal a tantalizing triangle of skin covered by the soft fuzz of hair. She ran her fingers over the exposed skin, dipping her fingers under the fabric as far as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, evidence of his own desire that matched the pounding in her veins. She looked up to meet his gaze, darker and more animalistic than she’d ever seen it.

He crashed his lips to hers and she accepted his hungry kisses, returning them with equal fervour as she gripped his shirt and he wrapped his arms around her in an achingly tight embrace. What little of the world that had remained melted away, and Ruby was only aware of his touch and the need he awoke in her, his hunger matching her own. For a flickering moment, she wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t take her right there—and she wasn’t sure that she didn’t want him to.

Before she could tumble over the edge completely, he pulled back, and Ruby opened her eyes, her heart racing as the cold that rushed to fill the space between them yanked her back to reality. They both panted heavily, their arms around each other, searching each other’s features in the faint glow of the embers beside them.

Ruby bit her lip and pressed her forehead to Archie’s, her hands clasped around his neck. “I—I want you, too,” she murmured with a shy smile.

He grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and Ruby closed her eyes, savouring the gesture as they both caught their breath. Slowly, the little cabin came into focus, the soft edges of the night becoming more clear as they sat with their hands around each other.

Archie swallowed again. “I—I think I, uh, might go for a walk before bed,” he said, and Ruby was all but certain that more than a little colour tinted his cheeks and ears, though she couldn’t see enough to make it out.

She grinned back, proud of herself, though guilt pricked her that she didn’t feel more badly for the state she’d put him in. “Oh, really?” She couldn’t help but remember the times that he’d rushed from the cabin into the bitter cold on one errand or another.

“It’s—it’s nothing,” he insisted, though a smile crept over his features, confirming her suspicions.

She was about to tease him more, but thought better of it, suddenly feeling shy.

Before she could think of something to say, a whimpering cry sounded from the bedroom. Ruby scrambled up, followed by Archie.

“I’ll get him,” she told him as she placed her hand on his arm.

He nodded before looking around for his glasses. Ruby grabbed them off the table and handed them to him. With a quick kiss to his shoulder, she rushed to the bedroom, helpless to her son’s demands and leaving her husband to the sweet June air.

 

* * *

 

“Sh-h-h-h, Pongo, you stay there, Boy,” Archie instructed his dog in the sliver of the doorway. The dog simply tilted his head, panting, as he sat waiting for his master. When it was clear that he was not to gain entrance to the house, Pongo finally turned in place before he plopped down on the porch in a huff.

Archie chuckled as he shut the door. The hearth had long since burned out, so he only had the light of the half moon that crept in through the cracks of the curtains to see by. He shuffled towards the bedroom, stopping with a cringe as he bumped a chair, letting out a loud screech across the floorboards. He froze and held his breath, praying that he hadn’t woken the baby, or the rest of his family. After a few moments of silence that convinced him all was well, he continued his journey, more careful than before.

He opened the door to see that the lamp was still lit, and his heart rose in his chest. He closed the door quickly, shutting it with a quiet click, before he turned towards the chest of drawers. Slowly, he opened the middle drawer and pulled out a nightshirt before sliding it closed, deliberate in his motions to limit any noise.

Emotion swelled in his chest as he turned around to see his family sleeping soundly—August with his blankets kicked down around his ankles, sleeping twisted on stomach. Little Peter lay on his back in his cradle, his arms raised above his head, his chest rising and falling in complete peace. And Ruby, curled up on his bed, facing his side as if she was waiting for him to return.

He took a deep breath and shook his head at himself before he became lost to such daydreams. He took a few steps to the end of the bed and turned around, facing the wall to change quickly, since everyone was asleep. He haphazardly threw his discarded clothes over the rail of the bed and made his way to the table in the middle of the room to blow out the lamp. In a breath, the room was dark, and he slowly felt his way around the bed to his side, careful to avoid Peter’s cradle.

He pulled back the blankets and crawled inside, careful so as not to wake his sleeping wife, deserving of far more rest than she was able to snatch. He was not entirely met with success as she hummed and stretched for him, snuggling into him as she reached her arm across his chest.

Archie lay on his back as Ruby used his chest for a pillow, and he held his breath for a moment, in awe that this was his new reality. Not even a week ago, he’d only dared to imagine what life would be like to have her stay as they were, in separate rooms—platonic companions at best. It was beyond his wildest hopes that she would feel the same for him as he did for her, and yet, here they were—entwined together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He covered her arm with his and brought his other arm up to her head, stroking her loose hair, no longer confined to a braid. For a moment, he was lost to the luxury of running his fingers through her hair and brushing his hand across her forehead. She sighed and nestled into him, and he thought his heart would grow too large for his chest as it ached in happiness. If it weren’t for the warmth of her, the pressure of her lithe frame wrapped around him, he would have thought this all an illusion.

But it was real.

He pressed a kiss to her hair as his thoughts continued to buzz around him, refusing to settle just yet. He’d been careful not to push too far, knowing their situation required delicacy. He couldn’t imagine all that Ruby must be going through, her life thrown into upheaval so many times in less than a year. Besides, he hadn’t been married, so he couldn’t pretend to understand what it was like to begin a marriage to one man while still grieving—cherishing—the memory of another.

He wanted to give her all the time she needed, but he couldn’t deny, he was glad that she was more ready than he had at first thought. The memory of earlier that evening alone was enough to stir his desire—her lips on his neck, her fingers on his chest, the hunger in her eyes—and he swallowed to keep himself collected. It was ridiculous, he told himself, to be acting like a man half his age, but it was hard to help. She was intoxicating.

And yet, even more than that, it was the trust that he saw in her eyes, the way she relaxed into his touch, that took his breath away. No longer timid, she felt safe around him. She _wanted_ him.

What was a little while longer when they had the rest of their lives?

It was a silly, sentimental thought, but it fixed a smile on Archie’s lips as his mind continued to whirl through his plans—the changes that would need to be made, and hopefully sooner rather than later. It wasn’t fair to keep August in the same bedroom, but Archie didn’t like the thought of him by himself at the other side of the house, let alone in the lean-to. And what would happen once Peter was more grown? Soon enough, however, his mind grew foggy with sleep, and all he could focus on was Ruby’s breathing as it matched his own, her head rising and falling with his chest as he buried his hand in her hair.


	35. Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of the changes surrounding the Hoppers, Archie carves out some time for him and August to spend together.

Whether the busy-ness of family life was a blessing or not remained to be seen, but the next day was too full for Ruby and Archie to find much time alone. They awoke to August shaking them both awake and announcing that it was his birthday, which set Peter to crying after being so rudely startled. Archie shuffled August out of the bedroom to leave Ruby to settle Peter, with him and his son just managing to grab their change of clothes on the way out.

They made light work of their morning chores, and Ruby had a delicious pancake breakfast waiting for them, complete with butter and the last of the berry jam from the previous summer. Archie grinned as he saw August’s eyes light up, his plate piled high with the hot cakes and melted butter and more jam than should have been necessary, all smothered in syrup. Archie threw a look at Ruby across the table who chuckled back at him over Peter’s head, the infant propped up on her lap.

Soon enough, breakfast was over—thanks in no small part to the birthday boy’s ravenous appetite as he cleaned his plate in a flash—and Archie and August collected their things for their special excursion. Archie had planned to taking August fishing, just the two of them, before Ruby had planned to stay. Now, instead of being something to distract his son—though in truth, it would have been more for himself—it was now a time to spend together, an escape from their full house. With fishing rods in hand, Ruby handed them both their pails with packed lunches, and she sent them both out with quick kisses.

“Bring me home the biggest fish you can find!” she called from the doorway as they set off towards the creek with Pongo leading the way. Archie threw her a look over his shoulder and grinned, his mouth already watering at the thought of fresh fish for supper. Ruby blew him a kiss and he felt himself blush before waving back.

“Pa- _a-a-a_ ,” August groaned beside him, and Archie simply chuckled.

The sun was already high in the sky as they settled down at the creek bank. They found the log that they’d brought over a couple of years ago as a makeshift bench and leaned their poles against it. Archie smiled to see the care with which August handled his new pole.

Archie began to string the fishing line through the poles and fastened the hooks to the ends while August quickly started on a task Archie suspected he enjoyed a little too much—digging for worms.

“Don’t get too close to the edge!” Archie warned as the boy traipsed downstream along the water’s edge.

“I won’t, Pa,” August called back, not bothering to look up.

For a few moments, everything was quiet, save for the rustling of the tall grass in the breeze, along with the branches of a lone tree dotted here and there along the banks, and Pongo’s splashing where the water met the earth. Archie breathed in deeply to savour the calm as his nostrils filled with the damp, earthy smell of the creek.

“I found some!” August cried, holding up his bucket.

“Great!” Archie called back. “Make sure to get a few.”

Suspiciously soon, August scrambled back to his pa, eager to show off the wriggling mass in his bucket. Archie smirked to see the dirt already ground into the knees of the boy’s pants, along with his stained palms. Clearly, he was quick to take advantage of the opportunity to get dirty, free from any chastisement, and Archie was more than happy to give it to him.

“You did get a lot,” Archie said, glancing inside while August beamed back. “These should have the fish biting in no time.”

August grinned and placed the bucket on the log beside his father before he took a seat. He reached for his pole and handed it to his father—a silent request in the routine between father and son.

Archie shook his head as he took the pole and reached in for a worm. For all August loved getting messy, he hated putting the worm on the hook. Archie couldn’t blame him, but he enjoyed the grimace on August’s face as he put the hook through the helpless creature.

Archie focused on his task and missed the serious expression fall across his son’s features.

“Pa, did you know that worms are herma—her-ma-fro-dy-tees?”

“Hermaphrodites?” Archie said, furrowing his brow. “I think I did.” He licked his lips, wondering if he should dare to ask his follow-up question. “Do you—do you know what that means?”

“It means they can duplicate themselves because they got the boy and girl parts all in one.”

Archie swallowed. “Yes, that’s true.” He kept his eyes focused on the hook in his one hand and the worm in the other, his task becoming more difficult as he fought to concentrate. “But where on earth did you hear that?” He hadn’t seen Neal Gold in quite a while….

He could see August kick at the dirt out of the corner of his eye. “I read it in one of your big books,” he explained matter-of-factly.

“Ah.” To be honest, this wasn’t the tidbit that Archie expected his son to latch onto to, but then again—it shouldn’t surprise him, either. He had a knack for finding these things out, even if he was just reading about worms.

Archie licked his lips as he considered his next move. He didn’t want to shy away from certain subjects, but he didn’t want to say too much, too soon, either.

He took a deep breath. “Son,” he began, his hands frozen as he looked to the boy beside him, “there are some creatures who can, uh, _duplicate_ themselves without needing anyone else, but most cannot. And really, it’s not duplicating—making a copy—it’s more like two parts coming together to make a new being. The girl and boy parts. It’s called reproduction.”

Archie paused to study August’s reaction, wondering if he sounded too much like a textbook.

“Like how you needed to bring in Mr. Brown’s bull so Flora could have her calf?”

Archie chuckled. “Yes, exactly.” He should have known not to underestimate the ten-year-old’s observational skills, but that still didn’t make the next part of the conversation any less sensitive.

He noticed the boy shift a little on the log, his eyes fixed forward. Archie decided it would be better to commence the topic at hand with a slight distraction, and so he quickly finished with August’s fishing pole, adjusting the length of the line, before he handed it to his son.

A silence hung between them as he set up his own fishing pole until they were both focused on the task at hand—throwing their lines into the shallow waters before them and waiting for the tell-tale ripples and tugs that would reward their patience. The world around them was quiet, with only the buzz of the June bugs singing their song. Even Pongo was still as he lay down on the grass a couple of feet away from Archie, deliberately out of any shade to bask in the summer sun.

Still, Archie’s mind wandered from the peaceful scene in front of him as he wondered how to continue his conversation with August. His son was unusually quiet—though that was not so abnormal during their fishing trips. August had a bizarre capacity for concentration when he wished it.

Finally, Archie broke the silence. “So, uh, there was something I wanted to… run by you,” he finished awkwardly, throwing a glance sideways to August.

“Hmm?” August mumbled, his gaze facing forward lest he miss so much as a nibble on his fishing line.

“Well, now that things are more… settled, with Miss Ruby here—your ma”—Archie paused to savour the word on his tongue, sweet and hard and solid, like a jeweled candy—“n-now that she and Peter are back, I was thinking we might need some more… space.” Archie wondered how August would warm to that idea, given his reaction when he was left alone in the bedroom the night of Ruby’s return.

“Ooh, like—could I live in the barn, Pa? I could set up the hay loft real nice, and watch over the animals.”

Archie chuckled. “Not so far as the barn, I’m afraid.” The trouble was, he couldn’t exactly decide on where the alternative would be. “But your ma and I… need a bit more privacy. And you’re getting bigger—you need some privacy of your own.”

August frowned, and Archie could see the gears turning in his son’s head. At the moment, he could relate.

Finally, August spoke. “Is this ‘cause you and Ma are… reproducing?”

Archie coughed, surprised by the extent of his son’s bluntness. “Well, not exactly…” he managed to choke out.

“Ma told me about how Peter came to be, with the love spilling over.”

“Um, yes. That… happens—when a ma and pa love each other.”

Archie’s grip tightened on his fishing pole as he willed a tug to materialize. It didn’t come.

“Does that mean I’m going to have another brother? ‘Cause there’s barely enough room as it is, Pa.”

Archie couldn’t help but grin at August’s matter-of-factness—or maybe it was the idea of a growing family that made his heart all but burst from his chest. “Well, maybe eventually, but you don’t have to worry about that for a little while yet,” he assured his son.

As it was, Archie wasn’t sure if he’d just confused August further, and he didn’t know what he wanted to say anymore. At least the idea was planted—that there would be more changes ahead—but he decided to leave it at that.

Before he could question himself, the end of August’s line fluttered, followed by a burst of activity. “Look, Pa!” August cried, beaming as he struggled with his pole in a fight between boy and fish. Archie quickly placed his pole beside him against the log so he could help his son if necessary. The splashes increased and August stuck his tongue out as he reeled the line in to reveal a medium-sized perch.

Even Pongo joined in on the fun, springing up at the first sign of movement. He danced and barked as August held the fish up proudly, grinning at his pa.

“Well done,” Archie praised as he took the fish off the hook and placed in a pail. “That’s a fine start to our supper.”

The awkward subject was already forgotten as father and son turned their attention to the water, an easy silence surrounding them between a catch here and there. While a little—or sizeable—part of him itched to be back at the homestead, Archie cherished this time with his son and the chance it provided him to give his boy his undivided attention. He noticed how August’s smile widened, how his posture relaxed, as the shadows cast by the sun grew longer. In a way, it was a sliver of their old life gifted to them—a blessing after the whirlwind of the last few months, which had been filled with preparations for the new doctor, rebuilding after the barn fire, and the anticipation of Ruby leaving—not least of which included the arrival of little Peter himself. Though Archie knew that August was perhaps even more elated that their family was together for good, he knew that even a boy as lively as his son also needed some quiet time with his pa.

The afternoon proved fruitful in more ways than one, and soon the Hopper men finally packed up and headed home, their rods and pails in hand along with an impressive catch of a few fish—minus the one or two that Pongo had scared off. Archie’s heart lifted as the cabin grew closer, his tread lighter with each step as he kept one hand on August’s shoulder. When they were a few yards away, the front door swung open, and Archie grinned to see Ruby appear, as if she’d been watching for them from the window. His chest swelled and he let out a chuckle as August broke away and jogged, Pongo at his side, to close the distance between himself and his ma, proudly showing off his catch.

“It’s so big!” Ruby gushed, her smile wide and her eyes bright. “And I’m glad to see it, because I for one was getting hungry.” She ruffled August’s hair for emphasis.

“Well, this one’s mine,” August insisted before he turned to go through the doorway, and Ruby threw Archie an amused look.

“Ah, August,” Archie reminded gently. “Best not to take your things inside.”

“Right,” August huffed before placing them on the small porch. Once his rod was precariously leaning against the side of the house, he disappeared inside, leaving Archie and Ruby to laugh.

“It looks like my boys did well,” Ruby said with a glint in her eye as she turned her attention to Archie.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” Archie agreed as he held up three more fish all hanging together. “Though I’ll not get too close right now,” he added, sensing Ruby’s hesitancy to lean in as the fishy smell hung thick around him.

Ruby smiled again before crossing her arms in front of her. He noticed that neither of them made a move to join their sons inside, but he wasn’t sure if she had something to tell him or if they were both just soaking in the simple moment of being alone.

“Mary Margaret stopped by on her way back from Storybrooke,” Ruby finally said, breaking the silence.

Archie raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Ruby rocked on the balls of her feet and glanced down, showing off her eyelashes to their full effect before meeting his gaze. “She, uh—she and David have offered to take August for a few days after the party in town,” she explained with a hint of colour crossing her cheeks before she bit her lip.

“ _Oh_ ,” Archie replied, his pulse quickening slightly despite the decidedly unattractive state in which he currently found himself after a day out in the dirt and worms and a fistful of fish. “That’s… handy.” It certainly solved one problem he’d been thinking over.

“It is,” Ruby agreed. “But maybe we should talk it over more after supper.”

Archie nodded his agreement and licked his lips. “Sounds wise,” he managed to say.

Ruby nodded back and reached out for the line of fish. He gladly handed them over and jerked his head behind him towards the pump. “I’ll just wash up out here,” he explained before setting his fishing pole down beside his son’s.

“Sounds wise,” Ruby teased, scrunching her nose at him over her shoulder before she disappeared inside. Archie let out a sigh and grinned to himself as he headed for the pump, grateful for the splash of cold water.


	36. Storybrooke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby realizes how much has changed—and how much she and Archie have to celebrate with their friends—as the day of Storybrooke's summer celebration finally arrives.

The rest of August’s real birthday was deemed a success—thanks to a delicious meal of fresh fish followed by special birthday cookies—and soon, the true ten-year-old was dreaming of birthdays to come as he snored lightly in the bedroom. His ma and pa were not far behind him, managing to stay awake just long enough to solidify their plans for August to visit with the Nolans for a week before they made their way to the bedroom and nodded off themselves, with Archie’s arms around Ruby.

Before they knew it, the day of the town party arrived, and the Hopper family packed themselves up and drove off to Storybrooke to celebrate the beginning of summer before the heat showed its full strength.

Ruby bounced her knee as they arrived in town, memories of the Harvest party washing over her when she was, for all intents and purposes, a grieving widow amongst strangers. Her heart swelled in her chest as she realized how she longed to see her neighbours again—now with a three-and-a-half month old in tow. She threw a glance to Archie, whom she suspected had similar thoughts as he met her gaze and gave her a grin before he pulled Cleo to a stop in front of the doctor’s office. In a scene that mirrored their arrival at the Nolans’ all those months before, August hopped down and raced towards the activity, leaving Archie to help Ruby down from the wagon before carrying their offerings to the party, along with his fiddle.

This time, however, as she arrived side-by-side with her husband, her infant son in her arms, Ruby was almost certain her heart would have floated away if not for her ribs holding it firmly in place. No longer did the air hold a chill with the threat of winter’s destruction, but the sun shone down on the happy scene, the main street transformed in an array of colourful banners and flowers that took her breath away. No longer did Ruby scan a crowd of strangers, praying for a friendly retreat, but she revelled in the warmth of Archie’s presence beside her as they wondered whom to greet first.

Though, truth be told, there was a hint of trepidation as Ruby noticed a banner hanging across the square set up in the middle of the street. She let out a sigh of relief when she grew closer to see it only read “Annual Storybrooke Summer Celebration” before she shook her head at herself, only then realizing she hadn’t entirely trusted Mary Margaret’s promise to keep the attention off of herself and Archie.

Before Ruby had a chance to turn around, she felt arms wrapped around her and Peter, pinning her arms.

“You’re here!” a light, familiar voice cried, and Ruby grinned as she pulled back to see Mary Margaret’s features beaming back at her.

“We are,” Ruby agreed with a nod, chastising herself for being choked up by such a simple statement. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began bouncing Peter gently as she realized Archie had disappeared to the tables of food to add her potato salad and pie to the feast. “You and Belle did a wonderful job with the decorations,” Ruby added, turning her focus back to her friend.

Mary Margaret waved off the praise. “Oh, it’s nothing, trust me.” She leaned forward and mock whispered, “We use the same banners every year, and Belle is generous enough to donate some of her flowers to the cause. That’s all.”

Ruby chuckled. “Well, I’m impressed. And next time, you’ll have to let me help!” Next time, when she wasn’t dealing with a barn fire and packing up her things to leave her family behind.

Mary Margaret gave Ruby a playful swat. “You had enough on your plate, but yes—next time, you most certainly won’t be getting off that easy. Archie!”

Ruby turned to see her husband join her, and heat bloomed throughout her whole body as he placed his hand on her back. “Hello, Mary Margaret,” he greeted, his voice warm. “You and Belle have done a great job with the party this year.”

“It’s the same every year, Archie Hopper, as you well know, but I will never turn down flattery,” Mary Margaret said. “But never mind all that. I’m glad you’re both here.”

In a breath, the woman with boundless cheer and energy spun around and clapped her hands. “Everyone, listen up!” she exclaimed, her voice holding a surprising amount of authority for so dainty a woman. Everyone milling about stopped their activity and turned to focus on Mary Margaret, and Ruby shrank into Archie slightly as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Thank you for coming to our Annual Summer Celebration,” she began, and Ruby bit her lip, sensing that she would not escape the limelight entirely. “It’s wonderful to see you all—and to see some new faces since last year.”

Ruby glanced down to hide her smile, and Archie gave her a squeeze.

“You all know that this past year has brought on a particular change for one of our residents, Mr. Archibald Hopper. Not quite a year ago, Archie and Ruby were married, which in and of itself is a big change. Not only that, but in March, Ruby and Archie and August welcomed little Peter to the family.”

Ruby glanced around for August to see him—to no great surprise—with Emma and Neal by the food table. Their eyes met and she flashed him a reassuring smile, which he returned with some hesitancy.

“On top of all this, Mr. Hopper—along with Ruby—worked tirelessly this year to ensure that, in a couple of weeks, Storybrooke will be welcoming its very own doctor to stay with us,” Mary Margaret continued with a clap of her hands, and Ruby scanned the crowd to see faces both familiar and unfamiliar nodding along. She stopped when she caught a peculiar expression cross Jefferson Madden’s features, but she dismissed the thought when his features relaxed as he swept Grace up into his arms.

“And then, as if the Hoppers have not been busy enough, they’ve also had to rebuild after a fire destroyed their barn. And so,” Mary Margaret said, turning behind her to Ruby and Archie, frozen in place, “Belle and I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you both for all you’ve done for Storybrooke, and to welcome Ruby to our town. We’re—we’re truly so happy you’re here!”

Ruby swallowed the lump that rose in her throat and tears pricked her eyes as she met her friend’s gaze. “Thank you,” she mouthed, and Mary Margaret grinned, her own eyes glistening. Ruby looked up to see Archie smiling down at her, and pride washed over her, to have her husband’s hard work and generosity recognized. For the countless time, she was filled with awe that this man was truly her husband.

She had to laugh to see the colour sweep over Archie cheek’s as he shifted in place, glancing over the throng of people before he returned his focus to her and placed a kiss to her hair. “God is good,” he murmured, and Ruby nodded, unable to say anything more.

There wasn’t much time to squirm under the attention, thankfully, as Mary Margaret called David up with a wriggling baby in his arms to say the blessing over the food. A reverent hush fell over the town and Ruby soaked in David’s words of thanks, echoing them in her heart. Once he closed with an “Amen”, the party buzzed to life, and Ruby and Archie and Peter found themselves surrounded by well-wishers.

Ruby was glad that Jefferson was among the first to greet them, and she eagerly returned his embrace as best she could with Peter in her arms. “It’s so good to see you again!” she exclaimed, pulling back from the hug to turn her attention to Grace while Archie’s attention was tugged elsewhere. She crouched down to the five-year-old’s eye level. “And how are you enjoying the party so far?”

“Very well, thank you,” was the girl’s polite reply as she hid behind her father’s leg, his arm on her shoulder. Her smile was bright, however, and Ruby suspected she would be running along with Emma and August and Neal in no time.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here!” Jefferson added, echoing Mary Margaret’s words, raising his voice to be heard over the hum of others. He leaned forward and placed his hand on Ruby’s arm, an intimate act that was comforting, despite Ruby not knowing the man terribly well—yet. “Truth be told, I was worried about how Archie was going to handle it.”

Ruby started and met Jefferson’s gaze as he stood back and smiled with the warmth of someone who knew her husband more than she realized—and, perhaps, knew the pain of such heartbreak himself.

Ruby felt her features soften as tears welled up. “I—I’m so glad neither of us have to find out,” she choked out before flashing the man a grin, determined not to let her emotions get the better of her.

“Find out what?” a familiar voice said beside her, and Ruby’s grin grew wider as she leaned into her husband’s hand that he placed it on her back.

Jefferson jerked his chin at Archie. “Oh, just how bad a cook you are now,” the younger man added before clapping a hand to Archie’s shoulder.

Archie chuckled. “Yes, I, uh—I’m afraid August and I won’t be inviting ourselves to your place for suppers after all.”

Ruby gave her husband a playful swat, basking in the cheerful teasing between friends. Peter began to shift in her arms and she bounced in place to soothe his fussing, while Grace rushed off—after gaining her father’s approval in the form of a nod—to join August and Emma and Neal.

“Has there been any news of Per—D-doctor Whale?” Jefferson asked, turning his attention to Ruby and Archie, and Ruby had to stop herself from frowning at the sudden change in subject. Then again, he had helped to enlist the new doctor, so his attentions shouldn’t have been surprising.

“He’ll be on the stagecoach next week,” Archie replied nonchalantly. Ruby wondered if her husband noticed the purse in Jefferson’s lips and the tightening in his jaw.

“Right, right,” Jefferson said with his usual grin as he dropped his gaze. “It’s that time already. And you’ll be meeting him once he arrives?” He looked up, and Ruby thought she saw apprehension in his raised brow that held more than mild curiosity about an old school mate.

“Yes, I’ll be here to see him settled,” Archie assured his friend. Ruby glanced between the two men, wondering if she was reading too much into the conversation.

“That’s good—that’s good. I’m sure you’ll make him feel welcome.”

“We were planning on having him over for dinner when he arrives. You’d be more than welcome to join us,” Ruby offered, glancing at Archie before returning her focus to Jefferson.

Jefferson dropped his gaze for a moment before meeting Ruby’s eye. “No, no—I’d better not overwhelm the poor fellow. It will just be nice to see an old school chum, is all. It’s, uh—it’s been awhile.”

“Of course,” Ruby agreed, fighting to hide the confusion that Jefferson’s questions stoked. His attentions to the new doctor seemed more than just friendly somehow. “Well, I for one am thrilled that I’ll be able to meet him after all!” she continued with a little too much cheer.

Archie wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze while Jefferson’s features relaxed into an easy smile.

“And Storybrooke thanks you for your efforts in bringing him here and getting him settled,” Jefferson said with a nod. His eyes met Ruby’s and she caught a hint of longing before he turned his attention to Archie. “Now, didn’t I see you bring your fiddle? How can you keep the people waiting?” His tone was teasing and slightly dark, which Ruby was beginning to learn was his certain kind of charm—though still full of warmth.

She followed his lead and scrunched her nose at Archie. “Yes, your audience awaits! The dancers need their music.”

Archie chuckled. “And here I was thinking I’d be able to enjoy a good meal first. Alas, I must always be a slave to my art.”

“There you go!” Jefferson agreed with a hearty laugh. “The man of the people.” He extended an arm to Ruby. “With your husband called away, might I escort you to the banquet, m’lady?”

Ruby grinned and, with a farewell to Archie, took Jefferson’s arm and let him lead her to the tables of food where she spied some other friends.

Before she knew it, Ruby was wrapped in Belle’s warm embrace, whose petite stature only seemed to concentrate her greeting in its full force. “Hello!” Ruby said with a chuckle as they pulled back.

“Well, hello, there!” Belle replied, her voice instantly pitching a few notes higher as she cooed to Peter directly. “And how is this little man doing?”

“He’s growing too fast if his mama has anything to say about it.”

Belle laughed as she glanced up and finally remembered Jefferson. “Mr. Madden—so good to see you here, too.”

“I know I’m not as charming as a three-month-old, but I do my best,” Jefferson teased before greeting Belle with a kiss to her cheek. “And how is Mrs. Gold today? Please tell me you made my favourite strawberry tarts.”

Belle flashed her own grin as she squeezed Jefferson’s arm. “I wouldn’t dare forget,” she replied with a nod to the end of the table. With a wink, Jefferson was off to the far side that held the sweets and began mingling with Sean Herman.

“And I’m just fine, since you asked!” Belle called after him before turning back to Ruby, her features bright. “Goodness, that man is worse than the children,” she added with a huff, and Ruby laughed as she shifted Peter on her shoulder.

“Just look at all this food!” Ruby exclaimed, her eyes wide as she took in the feast of fried chicken and sausage and all sorts of sandwiches and jellied salads in an array of colours—never mind the fruit and desserts farther down the table. It was enough to make Ruby’s mouth water.

“Never let it be said that Storybrooke doesn’t know how to celebrate,” Belle agreed. Ruby smiled to see her friend’s attention quickly return to her son as Belle took Peter’s little hand in hers, and Peter’s eyes widened as he focused on this new face. “Though, I have to admit, I haven’t been feeling like much in the way of food lately.”

Ruby’s features dropped. “Oh, no, Belle—are you ill?”

Belle straightened and met Ruby’s gaze. “Oh, no, nothing like that!” she said with a grin. She leaned forward and whispered. “I just—I’m certain that I’m _pregnant._ ”

A thrill shot through Ruby and she let out a squeal before throwing her arm around her friend. “Belle, that’s _wonderful!_ I’m so happy for you!”

Perhaps she was too overzealous in her congratulations because Peter began to cry. “Sweetheart, sh-h-h-h, it’s okay,” Ruby cooed, and she and Belle laughed as Ruby tried to placate her son. “When did you find realize…?” she asked her friend more calmly.

“Oh, about a couple of weeks ago?” Belle answered, her gaze flitting between Ruby and Peter as she continued to hold Peter’s hand. “I reckon I’m just shy of a couple of months along, now. I don’t know if it’s too soon to be telling folks, but I couldn’t resist letting you know.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ruby repeated, her cheeks tight from grinning. “I’m so happy for you and Mr. Gold. And how fortunate that the doctor arrives next week!” _No wonder Mr. Gold was so willing to hire him._ Ruby chastised herself for the thought, for she knew that the plans for Dr. Whale’s arrival had been set long before Belle’s happy news. Still, the notion was rather amusing.

Belle laughed. “Yes, well, I won’t deny I’m grateful for the timing.” She brushed out her skirts around her middle absentmindedly as her expression turned slightly more serious. “And, truth be told, I’m terribly relieved, in case anything does happen, given how hard it was to conceive…”

Ruby shook her head and grabbed Belle’s hand. “Don’t say it—you’ll be _fine_.” She bit her lip to keep from saying anything about her own delivery lest she reveal Archie’s secret. “And besides, Mary Margaret and I would be more than willing to help in any way we can.”

Belle’s vibrant blue eyes searched Ruby’s before her features relaxed. “Thank you,” Belle murmured. “That means the world to us.”

“Oh, you told her, didn’t you?”

Ruby started to see Mary Margaret beside them. “It seems Mrs. Gold is eager to put the doctor through his paces,” Mrs. Nolan teased. Ruby quickly calculated when the baby would be due—sometime in the late fall. At least Belle wouldn’t be too uncomfortable during the heat of the summer.

“Well, I would have bet good money that Ashley would have been the first to have a baby delivered by Dr. Whale, but it seems they’re waiting until after the harvest to wed.”

“Oh?” Belle exclaimed. “It’s official?”

Mary Margaret nodded, her hands clasped and unclasped, and Ruby realized the woman wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself without a task before her, or a child at her skirts. “Mmhmm. The girl can’t help but tell everyone within earshot that they’re finally going to be married.”

Ruby smiled as she scanned the crowd for the bride-to-be. She spotted her over by a tree talking to some townsfolk that Ruby didn’t recognize, with Sean now by her side.

“They’re so sweet,” she murmured as she turned back to her friends.

The cheerful hum of conversation swirled together with the first notes of the band that echoed the joy bubbling up in Ruby’s chest. There was so much to celebrate!

Though the similarity to the Harvest party was not lost on Ruby, the striking difference to a few months ago hit her with enough force that she began to blink back a couple of tears as her thoughts wandered from her friends’ conversation, and she hoped that her silent nods and smiles would not raise suspicions.

How much had changed in the last few months! How much had changed in the few _days._

As if on cue, Peter began to fuss and Ruby was able to slip away behind _Gold’s_ for his feeding in a welcomed moment of quiet. The sight of her son’s face as he sucked gently at her breast, completely satisfied, worked to settle her heart as emotion washed over her—the overwhelming sense of belonging that was finally hers.


	37. The Dangers of Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the party continues, Ruby and Archie manage to snatch some moments together.

One of the most striking contrasts to the harvest party was the tug that Ruby now felt throughout the day to search for Archie in the crowd, as if she just wanted to be assured of his presence. It was silly, this longing to be by her husband’s side when they’d come to visit with their neighbours, but she didn’t even want to fight it. She caught his eye as she emerged from behind the general store and made her way towards the makeshift bandstand across the street, and he flashed her a grin. She waved back before stopping in place, the grumble of her stomach reminding her of the feast available. The journey to the tables, however, was fraught with more obstacles than she realized as she was stopped by countless well-wishers, many of whom she barely recognized. Yes, it was lovely to see each other, and yes, she and Archie really had been married last year, and yes, wasn’t the little one big already?

In truth, it added to Ruby’s spirits, to be so welcomed to her hometown for good, but she also couldn’t help but think she would be far more benevolent to the chatter with some food in her stomach.

Finally making her way through the buffet line—a task made far more difficult with an infant in one arm—Ruby emerged on the other side with a plate piled high with goodies. Her goal clear, she swiftly turned in the direction of the band, trying hard not to make eye contact with anyone unless absolutely necessary. Her heart beat a little faster as she closed the space between her and Archie, eager to retreat for a few moments. Besides, the poor man hadn’t had anything to eat, himself.

A few steps from the shade of the canvas cover, Ruby heard a high-pitched call.

“Mrs. Hopper!”

Ruby turned around to see a plump older woman rushing towards her and she smiled her greeting as she recalled the name from their earlier meeting in the spring. “Mrs. Merriweather!”

“Oh, my dear, look at you and the little one. You certainly have your arms full!”

Ruby nodded. “Yes, I—”

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you here. Now, pardon an old woman, but I had my doubts about whether or not you were going to stay. I didn’t know if you had the gumption to stick it out, but then I met you and I thought to myself, ‘now there’s a lass worthy of Archibald Hopper’.”

Ruby bit back a smile as she nodded along to the woman’s speech, unable to get a word in herself.

“And now you’re here with the baby, isn’t he sweet. And where has August gotten to? My, my, that child has the energy of a whole hen house!”

“Yes, he does keep us bus—”

“Well, I can’t imagine how you’ll keep up with another fine little boy. They sure do know how to get into mischief, now, don’t they?”

Ruby fought to keep her arm steady so as not to upset the plate of chicken and sandwiches and salads she held, and her arm began to grow sore as she gripped Peter close.

“I always did think what a fine thing it would be to have a pair of strapping young boys, and—”

“Mrs. Merriweather!”

Ruby turned around to see Jefferson jogging up towards them, and she breathed a sigh of relief before forcing her expression back to one of contemplation.

“Mrs. Merriweather, there you are—I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The older woman chuckled and Ruby was almost certain she saw a blush creep over the woman’s cheeks as Jefferson placed his hand on her back. “Now, now, Mr. Madden, I know for a fact you have far more to entertain you than an old spinster like me.”

“Nonsense!” Jefferson continued, throwing a knowing glance to Ruby before he focused on Mrs. Merriweather. “You’re just the woman I want to see. I’ve been dying for a taste of your peach pie, and I couldn’t rest until I’d found you so you could cut me the first slice.”

Mrs. Merriweather shook her head in an exaggerated motion and grinned so that Ruby was certain her smile really did reach from ear to ear. “He teases me like this every year,” she told Ruby, and Ruby smiled along. “As if this silly boy doesn’t know after twenty-some-odd years that it’s not time for peaches in June!”

“Mrs. Merriweather, you flatter me—I’m a thirty-something-year-old father, now.”

“Pish posh! I was considered an old spinster while you were in cloth diapers, so don’t pretend you’re not still a young’un…”

With one last glance over his shoulder, Jefferson gently guided the older woman in the direction of the desserts. “Then, of course, as far as I’m concerned I’m still a babe in the cradle,” Ruby heard Jefferson say before she snatched her chance at freedom and hurried to join Archie a few paces away.

He looked up at her from his perch on a hay bale, his fiddle tucked under his chin as his fingers and bow drew out the melody from the strings to join the harmony of the other instruments. Ruby smiled as she watched him play, transported as the bow danced with such energy that it left her in awe.

She was almost sad for the song to come to an end, but the disappointment was quickly righted as Archie stood up and pressed a kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, savouring the contact before they broke apart and her gaze met his.

“How are we doing, then?” he asked, turning his attention to Peter whose eyes were fixated on the strange stick in his father’s hand.

Ruby nodded to the other men before they dispersed for their well-deserved break. “We’re doing well,” Ruby assured Archie as he returned his violin to its case and placed it on the hay bale. “We just thought we’d come and feed the fiddler before he wears out his fingers. Didn’t we?”

Archie grinned and took Peter from Ruby. He shifted the baby to cradle him in his arm before he reached for a drumstick with his free hand. “Well, I appreciate it,” he said before taking a bite of chicken. He chuckled as Peter watched the chicken leg make the journey from his pa’s hand to his mouth. “I’m sorry, Son, but you can’t enjoy this food quite yet,” Archie said after he swallowed.

He turned to Ruby. “How’s he been? Have you eaten? I noticed you were ambushed by Mrs. Merriweather over there—I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything.”

Ruby laughed and shook her head. “Jefferson was kind enough to sacrifice himself,” she teased. “And Peter’s fine—Belle suggested I feed him behind their place. I haven’t eaten yet, which explains this mass of food. You didn’t think this was all for you, did you?” She flashed a grin at her husband as she took a bite of her sandwich before leaning towards him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “We’re more than fine,” she assured him, her mouth too full to be deemed polite.

“Good.” He took another bite and bounced Peter in his other arm, and the two of them stood in silence as they chewed. Ruby was almost certain that she had never had such a delicious sandwich in her life.

“Oh!” Ruby exclaimed, suddenly remembering a piece of news. Archie raised his brows as she swallowed. “Belle told me something exciting. She and Mr. Gold are expecting.”

“Really?” Archie asked, his features brightening even more. “That’s wonderful!”

“Umhmm,” Ruby agreed with a nod as she took another bite.

Archie paused and held his drumstick out absentmindedly. “That explains why Mr. Gold was so helpful in recruiting Dr. Whale.”

Ruby let out a mock gasp. “Archie!” Then, she grinned and leaned closer. “That’s exactly what I thought, but of course I didn’t say anything.”

“You’ll have to offer them my congratulations,” he added sincerely.

“Speaking of Dr. Whale,” Ruby continued in between bites. “Did you notice Jefferson’s attentions to the subject?”

“No, nothing out of the ordinary.” Archie furrowed his brow at his wife. “Why do you ask?”

Ruby shrugged, trying to decide if she was making much out of nothing. “I just thought it was strange that he was so interested in the details of the arrival. He did ask you to handle it all, so why would he be so worried about it?”

“I just thought he was making conversation—or, at most, curious about someone he went to school with.”

“Did they know each other well?”

Archie shook his head. “Not that I’m aware, although Jefferson didn’t provide many details.” He turned from Ruby to focus on Peter for a moment, giving him a bounce before returning his attention to the boy’s ma. “Did you notice something strange?”

Ruby shook her head. “No, I guess not—and you probably know him best.” Still, she couldn’t shrug off the curious interest that Mr. Madden held about the new doctor.

Movement behind them alerted Ruby and Archie to the return of the rest of the band members, signaling an end to the short break. Archie took one last bite of chicken that tore the flesh from the bone before he gave Peter back to Ruby.

“Ah, ah, ah,” said Mr. Brown as he settled on his own hay bale with his banjo. “You’re needed out on the dance floor with your wife.”

Ruby and Archie both shook their heads, insisting that such allowances were completely unnecessary. As it turned out, they had very little say in the matter as Belle swept in to relieve Ruby of Peter—a duty in which she took too much pleasure, if Ruby did say so herself.

Ruby glanced up at Archie as she felt the heat creep into her cheeks that matched the flush in his own features. He glanced towards the makeshift “dance floor” in the middle of main street before offering her his hand. “Shall we?”

Ruby arched her brow, amused that he was taking it all in stride.

Much to her relief, others were pairing off and taking their places as well. She returned her attention to Archie and her pulse quickened to see his clear, blue eyes beaming at her with unwavering focus. “Let’s,” she breathed as her heart skipped a beat in her chest for a moment, and his laugh lines crinkled around his eyes as he broke into a grin. He placed one hand on the small of her back and took her hand in his, while Ruby’s free hand settled on his shoulder.

The notes of the banjo strummed out and Ruby followed Archie’s lead in a waltz. _One, two, three—one, two three,_ Ruby thought to herself as she concentrated on her steps. The movement came easily enough and soon she let herself relax as Archie guided them around, expertly maneuvering around the other dancers.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” Ruby teased with a nervous giggle.

“I have a very odd combination of skills,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.

“That, Archie Hopper, is downright lie—you have more talents than any one man has a right to be blessed with.”

Archie chuckled. “And _that_ , Mrs. Hopper, is shameless flattery.”

Ruby shook her head and bit her lip, unable to retort as the rasp of his voice shot through her. Warmth bloomed in her chest to have his arms around her, to have the world melt away for a few minutes where only the two of them existed, aided by the hypnotic sway of the dance. Their steps in sync, Ruby revelled in the points of contact—the warmth of her hand in his, his gentle touch on her back, his broad shoulder under her palm with his muscle flexing slightly as they moved. The restless energy that had buzzed in Ruby’s veins dissolved like dew melting before the sun and she noticed the warm rays that pored over them both as they danced in the June heat. Ruby couldn’t help but feel at ease in Archie’s arms, and part of her wished that the dance would last forever.

Or, more accurately, she wished a little too fervently to retreat back to the homestead with her husband as a different sort of energy simmered under her skin.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy scent of him that made her head swim. She tightened her grip slightly, causing Archie to frown.

“Is everything okay?”

Ruby smiled as she tried to regain her composure. “Yes—perfectly fine.”

Archie relaxed into a smile. “Good,” he murmured, his voice pitched deep and just audible enough that it sent shivers through her. She noticed the flicker of tension in Archie’s jaw, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gave a hard swallow, and she couldn’t help but wonder if his thoughts were on a similar vein. Thank goodness for that.

Well, no—perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea.

For the last measures of the song, Ruby focused on the melody of the music and the steps of the dance, reminding herself to enjoy the celebration. Thankfully, the dance itself was energetic enough that it left little room for daydreams and soon the final notes hung in the air as they came to a stop.

Archie let his hand drop from Ruby’s back and gave her hand a squeeze before he stepped to her side, and they both turned towards the musicians to offer their thanks in applause along with the other dancers. Ruby glanced around to see who else had been dancing, and she noticed Mary Margaret and David a few feet away, with David’s arm around his wife’s waist. Ruby smiled at her friends before beaming back at Archie, another wave of awe washing over her.

 _This is home_.

Then, Ruby noticed Belle near the band holding Peter with Mr. Gold standing beside her. She gave Archie’s hand a squeeze before she rushed over to her friend and took Peter, his little hands waving.

“I swear he was watching you two the whole time,” Belle gushed. “His beautiful ma and pa.”

Ruby chuckled. “Thank you for watching him.”

She felt Archie’s hand on her back and she looked up to him as he stood behind her. He dared to press a kiss to her temple before he returned to is place with the band, his violin waiting for him.

“Look, Peter, there’s your Pa,” Ruby cooed as she held Peter up and pressed her cheek to his.

Ruby realized it had been awhile since she’d seen August, and so she scanned the crowd in search of her eldest son. The ring toss that had been set up for the children had been long abandoned, and Ruby fought the unease that hovered over her when she still couldn’t spot him or his friends. A quick question to Belle and Mr. Gold answered the mystery, however—they had retreated behind the Golds’ place with ringleader Neal, or, more accurately, August had followed the older boy with Emma and Grace in tow. Ruby chuckled, certain that it was wiser to be ignorant of some of their fun. She also had no doubt that Emma and Grace were able to put August through his paces, should the need arise, while poor Neal would play the peacekeeper.

The festivities continued and Archie was able to join Ruby when the music took a break for the results of the pie contest—the honour, of course, going to Mrs. Merriweather’s strawberry rhubarb pie. Truth be told, the partygoers cared little for the results so long as they were able to taste the entries afterwards. Ruby grinned to see the older woman give Archie a heaping slice, despite his insistence that he didn’t need nearly so big a portion. Ruby, in turn, insisted she didn’t need a piece, though that didn’t stop her from stealing some of her husband’s. Peter’s eyes were hungry and Ruby chuckled. “Maybe next year, Sweetheart,” she teased with a kiss to his head. She could only imagine how his little face would pucker when he had his first bite of sour rhubarb.

Ruby’s favourite time was when Archie was able to sneak away from other duties and they could visit with their neighbours together. Her chest swelled with pride to have him beside her, holding their son and answering any number of mundane questions, or asking his own in return. His eyes were warm and his eager attention was proof of how much he cared for every inhabitant of Storybrooke. And, though he squirmed under the attention, Ruby delighted to see her husband as the celebrity of the day.

As they broke apart from their conversation with Leroy—whose replies were short and no-nonsense, though still amiable under his gruff façade—Ruby went through her mental list of names and faces to ensure she’d greeted everyone she should and to remember those she’d just met. She also realized a particular absence—that of Cora Mills and her daughter.

“Oh, apparently they’re out east in New York for an extended time,” Mary Margaret explained when Ruby was able to snatch some time with her friend while Archie was off chatting with Mr. Gold. “I have a suspicion that Cora’s trying to take full advantage of the societal season for husband-hunting.”

Ruby swallowed, knowing full well the ridiculous rituals to which the upper class subscribed to get their daughters married. “Poor Regina.” Hopefully it would be a blessing in disguise if the man was a benevolent respite from her domineering mother…

There was little time for dreary thoughts, however, when the sun shone bright and laughter rang out over the main street. The children had a competition of their own, and Belle and Ruby and Mary Margaret laughed to see them shuffle through the three-legged race. Neal and August were at a distinct advantage with their longer legs tied together and larger strides, compared to Emma and Grace. August’s competitive side revealed itself even more when he was left to his own devices in the potato sack race, his lips pursed as he made the final lunge over the finish line and slid across the dirt to beat Neal by a hair. Ruby cheered to see his grin spread from ear to ear as Mr. Gold handed him his ribbon.

Ruby also had to chuckle when Belle was eager to hold Peter for as much as Ruby would allow. “Please, take him!” she teased. “You can have him for as long as you want.” For a little while, at least, she enjoyed the freedom of visiting without her arms full.

Somehow, unfortunately, Ruby found herself ambushed by Mrs. Merriweather again, and this time, Jefferson was nowhere in sight.

“It’s been a good season for growing,” the older woman chattered, and Ruby nodded along. “My strawberries are so juicy, and the rhubarb! It’s almost overtaking my garden. Of course, I only have a little patch of dirt—nothing compared to your husband’s fields, of course. Oh, it was such a shame about the fire last month—all those seeds, gone!”

“Well, we didn’t lose mu—”

“Such a tragedy, but I know if anyone can get through it, you two will come out just fine. What doesn’t break you makes you stronger, you know.”

A hand settled on her back and Ruby started and turned to see her husband beside her, delight bubbling in her chest at his presence.

“Mrs. Merriweather, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid I need to steal my wife for a moment.”

“Oh, of course, Archie—I wouldn’t dream of keeping her from you—”

Archie smiled and nodded his chin to her, barely offering a brief “Thank you” before he took Ruby’s hand and led her away. Ruby could only flash the older woman an apologetic smile that she hoped wasn’t too gleeful as she rushed to keep up with Archie’s paces to the little alley in between the chop house and the tack shop.

“Archie, what on earth—” Ruby managed before he pushed her against the rough boards of the building and crashed his lips to hers. She let in a sharp breath before she relaxed into him, warmth swirling within her, alight at his touch. His one hand slid around her jaw and neck while the other braced his weight against the wall. He pressed himself against her, and Ruby’s pulse quickened to be covered by him in the small space as she splayed her hands against the wall beside her skirts.

“Archie,” she breathed when he pulled back, and she slowly opened her eyes to meet his gaze. His eyes flitted back and forth, and she saw them darken with desire as he searched her face. She bit her lip, savouring the taste of the kiss as she soaked in the attention. “I—what was that for?”

He leaned closer and tipped her chin up, his feather-light touch—such a contrast to what had preceded it—sending shivers through her. “I just… wanted to see my wife,” he murmured, his voice low so that she felt herself melt, the heat within pooling at her core. His breath fluttered over her lips before he kissed her again, and Ruby closed her eyes and brought her hands to his waist as she slowly gave over to her instincts. She moaned as his tongue swept past her lips, his kisses growing more hungry, and she gripped what fabric she could of his shirt, her hands pressed between their bodies at the waist of his pants. The rest of the world disappeared, and Ruby was only aware of her physical body against his, her only thought to close any distance between them. She cursed the constrictions, able only to return his kisses and grip a strap of his suspenders to tug him closer, sparks shooting under her skin as his hand cupped her neck. He dug his hand into her hair and all but shoved her against the wall. Ruby grinned at his unusual aggressiveness, the evidence of his own arousal that only heightened her own.

Then, he pulled back, and Ruby struggled to adjust to the sudden break in contact as her eyes fluttered opened and her breaths came short.

“I—I’m sorry,” Archie stuttered. His cheeks were flushed, though from desire or embarrassment, Ruby wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe both.

As Archie straightened, Ruby brought her hand up to his cheek, now free in the few inches that separated them. “Don’t be,” she assured him, breaking into a grin. In truth, there was nothing more intoxicating than sneaking away, to have such yearning overcome decorum, and Ruby was thrilled to be wanted so completely.

She couldn’t quite voice such thoughts, however, and so she giggled in a release of energy and tucked her head to his chest which heaved slightly as he panted to catch his breath. He pressed a kiss to her hair and pulled her to him away from the wall, wrapping his arms around her. They stood for a few moments as they gained their composure, both reluctant to join the hum of activity that they could now hear several yards away. Ruby forced herself to stand up and take a step back as her hands fluttered to her hair.

“Do I look presentable?” she asked, feeling her hair loose in her pins.

“I, uh—yes,” Archie replied, though his hesitancy gave Ruby room for doubt.

She tucked a few strands in as best she could, praying that her appearance wouldn’t give them away too much. She couldn’t help but laugh at the flush in her husband’s own features, though he could probably blame it on the day spent in the sun.

They did dare to join hands as they returned to the party, and Ruby couldn’t help but feel like a girl at risk of being caught with her beau. She met Mary Margaret’s eye as they made their way towards the tent with the musicians, and Ruby bit her lip at the raised brows of her friend which quickly turned into a smirk.

So they hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed.


	38. At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie return home after the town party and take advantage of their time alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: Please note, this chapter gets explicit, so if that's not your thing, please skip this part!

Ruby and Archie quickly slipped back to the party as respectable members of the community and parents to two young boys, and if anyone noticed anything different, nothing was said. The sun continued its journey across the sky, dipping closer to the western horizon as the fun continued, but dusk soon fell, signaling the end to a long day. Ruby, for one, was more than ready to head home with her husband, and she noticed the droop in Archie’s shoulders that told her he felt the same.

After they bid farewell to their friends, and had sent August off with the Nolans, Archie helped Ruby onto their wagon with Peter in her arms. Having packed everything up, Archie hopped up onto the wagon and took the reins, and with a click of his tongue, they were off.

The short journey to the homestead was oddly still. Ruby was certainly aware of August’s absence, and she scooted closer to Archie on the bench. The activity of the day made her limbs and eyelids feel heavy and she gave into the urge to rest her head on her husband’s shoulder. He let out a chuckle and wrapped his arm around her as she shifted Peter in her arms.

“Long day?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, not bothering to form complete words. The sun was just below the horizon, providing a dusty glow with just enough light to see by as the crickets chirped their happy song in the warm evening air. It was almost cozy, save for the bumps and jolts of the road.

Still, Ruby was more than happy to see their cabin come into view.

Archie pulled up to the door and let Cleo come to an easy stop. With a squeeze to her shoulders, he jumped down and hurried to her side, and Ruby forced herself to move, slowly making her way to the ground with Archie’s help.

The cabin was dark and Ruby let her eyes adjust while Archie placed their things on the table.

“I’m just gonna get the animals settled,” he said, coming up behind her to give her arm a squeeze and press a kiss to her temple.

“Mmhmm,” Ruby murmured again with a nod before tilting her head into his kiss. Then, she was left in an empty house with Peter in her arms.

With a deep breath, she got to work and laid Peter in his cradle by the fireplace. After untying her bonnet and placing it haphazardly on the rocking chair, she found the matches to light a couple of lamps, the evening still too warm to light the whole hearth.

As the flames burst to life, Ruby caught the glint on her rings—each hand bearing the covenant made with a different man. Her heart lurched in her throat and she had to swallow down the emotion that threatened to overtake her.

How strange that she’d forgotten the jewelry that had once given her grief—the physical manifestation of her heart divided. She took a deep breath as she brought her left hand up to study Peter’s ring by the lamplight, its scuffed metal only a dull shine. She played with it, twirling it up her finger with her thumb as her heart stilled in her chest.

It was time.

Slowly, she slid it off her finger and held it between her thumb and forefinger, highly aware of the gold shining on her right hand mere inches away. Ruby closed her eyes and brought the simple band to her lips in a farewell kiss to her old life. An act that would have felt a devastating betrayal months ago now brought a wave of relief washing over her and she realized she was, most assuredly, ready to close that chapter of her life. Peter would always have his claim staked on a corner of her heart, with his legacy continued through their son. And yet, no longer holding on to regrets or wishes for a life that would never be, Ruby was ready to face the sunrise that was her new life as Mrs. Hopper, mother to both August and Peter, and wife to the man who had captured her heart.

Ruby reverently tucked the ring away in her drawer of her sewing table, offering up a quick prayer of thanks for her time with her first husband. It was an odd memorial of sorts, and though a couple of stray tears rolled down her face, Ruby smiled at the significance of the small act.

Running her hands across her cheeks, she continued in her tasks and proceeded to light the stove and pour a jug of water into the coffee pot to start boiling. The heady scent of coffee soon filled her nostrils and sparked her senses, helping her become more alert. She was tempted to light more candles, also, hoping to chase away the drowsiness, but decided against the luxury. The two lamps were more than enough.

She then focused on the baskets on the table containing tins with the scrapings of the food she’d brought to the party. It would be wise to do the washing, but in act of indulgence, she simply placed the dishes in the large basin to be attacked the next day. She was not so lazy, however, as to leave the baskets on the table, and instead returned them to their proper hooks beside the cupboards. In truth, it was strange to be surrounded by such quiet after a busy day, and the motions of her evening routine felt more languid without the energy of a ten-year-old in the house. And yet, there was an anticipation buzzing in the air—simmering under her skin—as she waited for Archie to return.

By the time Archie entered, Ruby had already changed and fed Peter and was rocking him to sleep in the rocking chair. “Hey,” she greeted, looking up to the doorway across the room.

“Hey,” Archie replied softly as he closed the door and stepped inside, only just visible in the lamplight. He placed the pail of water on the floor and took off his hat before hanging it up. He turned back to face her, and his features widened into his grin that made her heart flutter. Ruby instinctively bit her lip as she dared to hold his gaze. For a moment, neither moved, and Ruby could almost hear her heartbeat.

Then, remembering himself, Archie grabbed the pail and took a few paces to the wash basin by the bedroom door. Ruby kept her gaze on him, transfixed by every movement, the flex of muscle as he poured the water in the basin. He removed his glasses and placed them on the high shelf above before he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up his forearms. He grabbed the soap and lathered up his hands and forearms and rinsed them clean. Then, he splashed some water on his face and reached for the towel, patting his face dry.

“I could have warmed that up for you,” Ruby said with a chuckle, noticing the droplets that clung to his curls around his face.

“Nah,” he said with a grin and a shake of his head. “It’s refreshing.”

He hung up the towel neatly on the rod and put his spectacles back on before making his way over to Ruby and Peter in the rocking chair. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

He bent down, his hand on the arm of the chair, and Ruby reached for his neck with her free hand, guiding his lips to hers in a quick kiss.

“What were you doing out there?” she couldn’t help but ask as she caressed his neck, furrowing her brow at him as he hovered over her.

“Oh, I—I just wanted to make sure the animals were settled.”

Ruby gave him an unconvinced look, wholly unsatisfied, but she didn’t press it. Truth be told, the subject was quickly forgotten as he leaned in for another kiss, lingering but chaste, and she stroked his jaw before he pulled back. He glanced down to the baby, whose gaze to his pa was interrupted as his eyelids began to flutter closed.

“He’s had a long day,” Archie said with a chuckle, and he brushed his son’s head before he stood up.

Ruby’s heart sank ever-so-slightly as Archie made his way to the stove for some coffee—though that _was_ the reason she’d made it. He threw her a look over his shoulder as he grabbed a couple of mugs. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you,” Ruby replied. She began to push off from the floor to rock the chair again, the movement soothing herself more than Peter, who was almost asleep.

She lazily watched Archie pour his coffee into his mug and pull a chair beside her before settling in. The domestic scene was cozy, and Ruby was grateful for the rare moment of quiet, but… she couldn’t ignore the restlessness that hummed in her chest.

She also couldn’t deny the particular annoyance she felt towards the chairs with arms.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?” Archie before taking a sip from his mug.

Ruby smiled and relaxed in her chair. “Mmhmm,” she assured him. “After hearing so much about the summer party, I’m glad I finally got to see it.”

“It’s become something of a tradition,” Archie said with a nod. “Mary Margaret and Belle have done a lot with it over the last couple of years.”

“Mmhmm.”

“August certainly had fun with Neal Gold. He follows that boy like a shadow, but I think I can safely say that Neal is a good influence.”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s nice to see Grace come out of her shell a little bit, too, and it’s fortunate that she and Emma are so close in age.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m pleased to see Jefferson getting involved. I wonder if he and Grace might stick around this winter instead of travelling like they normally do. He mentioned he’s considering as much—though I guess that’s still a ways off.”

“Mmhmm.”

Archie drained his cup and stretched to place it on the kitchen table before sitting back in his chair. He turned to Ruby and raised his brows, and Ruby studied the way the lamplight glinted off his red hair and shone just enough to betray the twinkle in his eyes. “Are you going to say that to everything I say tonight?” he teased.

Ruby felt the hum in her veins start to simmer once more. “Mmhmm,” she repeated, biting back a smirk.

Archie rested his forearm on the arm of his chair and leaned closer. “That kind of power can go to a man’s head,” he murmured in his deep rasp.

Ruby licked her lips and dropped her gaze to his mouth for longer than necessary. “Mmhmm,” she managed to mumble as she forced her eyes upwards. His blue eyes sparkled behind the frames of his glasses, and Ruby thought she would melt under his steady gaze. He brought his hand up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Ruby shivered as his fingers stroked her ear and neck.

He sat back slightly, keeping his hand on her neck as he held her gaze, and Ruby waited for him to continue. She could sense the sparks between them, the charge in the air as they both knew the significance of the strange quiet around them. They’d longed for this solitude, but now that it was theirs, Ruby wasn’t sure how to proceed. She thought of the stolen kisses from earlier that day, the heat the sparked to life so quickly, and she wondered if Archie was thinking the same.

She glanced down to Peter, only just remembering the infant in her arms. She gave Archie a sheepish smile. “I’ll just put him down,” she said. As she rose, Archie’s hand slid down to rest at the small of her back. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

She retreated to the bedroom, eager to see Peter settled. He was already asleep, and he barely stirred as she gently laid him in his cradle. She smiled as she pulled his blanket up over him, his hands already balled into fists above his head. “Good night, Precious,” she murmured before pressing a kiss to his head.

She quickly returned to the main room, eager to join her husband. And yet, there was a slight hesitation as she met his gaze and took a seat beside him—a shyness that she wished wouldn’t show itself at such inconvenient times.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his voice warm as he settled his hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, he’ll be out for awhile,” she assured him, a flush creeping over her cheeks at the possible double meaning.

Archie didn’t seem to notice. “That’s good,” he said with a smile. His hand wandered across her shoulder to her neck, instantly sending shivers through her as his fingers brushed her bare skin. She tilted her head against his hand and let out a hum, closing her eyes for a brief moment as his hands slid up to her ear.

“I, uh—I just wanted to make it clear that we—we don’t have to do anything more tonight. There’s no rush—just because…” His tone was quiet and Ruby could see the sincerity in his gaze.

Ruby smiled softly. “Archie, it’s okay,” she assured him, her heart full as she hooked her hand on his arm. “I’m ready—I’m ready to be your wife.”

He grinned. “I’m glad,” he breathed, his voice deep. “But first, would you mind—would you let me pray for us?”

Startled for a moment, Ruby quickly collected herself and nodded. Truth be told, this wasn’t a surprise coming from Archie Hopper, and she followed his lead as he turned towards her in his chair, his knees meeting hers. He took her hands in his before he ducked his head and closed his eyes, and Ruby did the same.

“Heavenly Father, thank you for this woman you’ve blessed me with. I thank you for her grace and strength, but especially I thank you for her generous heart. I ask that you would help me be a husband worthy of her, and I pray that you would bless our marriage. Protect our family, and may everything we do bring you glory. Amen.”

Tears pricked at Ruby’s eyes as she blinked them open, and Archie gave her hands a squeeze. She fought to focus on Archie, and for a moment the world was in a fog as her heart swam with emotions. Months ago, such a prayer would have felt foreign, but now her heart echoed the words as if she’d said them herself.

His blue eyes beamed at her, and she couldn’t help but grin back as he ran his thumbs over her fingers. He clasped her hands to his chest before holding them up in examination, studying her knuckles before meeting her gaze. “You—you took it off,” he breathed, his features almost serious as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe it.

“Yes,” Ruby whispered, only able to nod as her vision blurred slightly.

He stood up suddenly, pulling her up with him, and she let out a laugh, unsure of her own emotions—and yet, entirely certain about this man standing before her.

“May I?” he said quietly, holding up her right hand. Ruby nodded, transfixed as she watched his every move. Slowly, reverently, he slid his golden ring off of her right hand. He held up her left hand, supporting her fingers with his hand before edging the ring onto the fourth finger, and Ruby held her breath.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” he said softly, and Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat. As the ring slid into place, he looked up and met her gaze. Ruby kept her eyes fixed on his, her heart swimming along with the depths of love she saw there.

Then, he broke into a grin and brought his hands up to her cheeks, cupping her face as he crashed his lips to hers. Ruby grinned against his lips, bringing her hands up to rest on his arms as she returned the kiss, and a laugh bubbled up as her own sheer delight was amplified by his own.

They were finally and truly ready to be husband and wife.

They both gasped as they pulled apart, the energy of the kiss a contrast to the air of reverence from moments earlier. Ruby slowly opened her eyes to meet Archie’s gaze as they pressed their foreheads together. He slid his hands down her neck, trailing them down her shoulders and arms until they reached her hands.

“Shall we?” he asked quietly, and Ruby nodded.

He dropped her hands and turned around to grab a candle. He lit it from one of the lamps before blowing them both out, and, with one hand holding the brass loop of the candle holder, he took Ruby’s other hand before his steady steps guided them towards the bedroom. Ruby fought to keep her heart from pounding in her chest.

With his back to her, he crossed the length of the room to light the lamp on the little table, and the shifting light stilled once more, no longer casting eerie shadows. Ruby held her breath as he turned towards her, only vaguely aware of the cradle beside them. He tugged her towards him and reached for her neck as he brought her lips to his once more. Ruby moved her free hand up to his arm, her eyes closed as she anticipated another hungry kiss. Instead, the kiss was tender, a gentle caress of her lower lip, and she relaxed into it after the initial surprise. A soft heat rose within her, a flush in her cheeks in a precursor of the fire to come, and she delighted in the unassuming gesture, as if they both wanted to savour each moment.

Archie pulled back, and Ruby opened her eyes, studying his features as best she could with his face in the shadows, the lamp behind him. His gaze lingered on her face, dropping slowly down to her lips and then her chest, and she bit her lip. For a moment, she wondered if she dared to guide his hands, but she decided against it, wanting to see how he would proceed—wanting to give him that freedom. Besides, it sent a thrill through her, to be vulnerable in that way, the anticipation of his skilled hands wandering over her skin.

“May I?” he asked, his brows raised as he met her eyes, and Ruby nodded with a smile. He took a step towards her, closing the already small space between them before lifting his hands to the neckline of her dress just at the collarbone. Her breath hitched in her throat as his fingers connected with the fabric, working the buttons, and the pressure through her dress was enough to make her pulse quicken. One by one, he unfastened each button, and Ruby licked her lips as she watched him, his attention now on his hands. Her breathing quickened, causing her chest to rise and fall more deeply under his gaze.

With the last button opened, he returned to her lips, pressing a kiss to her mouth as his hands cupped her face. As he pulled back, he slid his hands down her neck and shoulders until he coaxed the dress from her shoulders and down her arms so it slid to the floor, leaving her arms bare to his fingers that finished their journey. The sensation of his touch made her shiver, and she grinned at him before giving him an eager kiss in return. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he smiled against her lips, his hands around her waist to hug her close.

The task was far from over, however, so Ruby pulled back after a moment and brought her hands to Archie’s hands at her waist. Her eyes fixed on his, she found the ties of her petticoats and tugged them loose, his hands now covering hers before he ran his fingers along the waistband to her front to help the skirts fall to the floor. Next, the laces of her corset, which Ruby couldn’t help but notice caused him some vexation at the tediousness of the task. Still, he kept his pace steady with each tug, and Ruby felt desire stir in her middle as his fingers grew closer to her skin with each layer—his gentle, strong hands, so deliberate with each movement. She could see the desire in his eyes, along with the care with which he worked, and Ruby felt like a treasure being unwrapped. With the final section loosened, Ruby took a deep breath, no longer constrained by the garment, and she held her hands up for Archie to guide it up over her head before he discarded it on the floor along with her other clothing.

She held her breath, standing before her husband in only her undergarment, the thin fabric clinging to her shape. Her gaze remained on his, and her heart swelled to see the adoration in his eyes before he pulled her to him with one hand on her waist, the other around her neck to guide her lips to his, his brow furrowed in a passionate kiss. Her hands settled on his waist and she gripped his shirt as his tongue swept past her lips, and she pressed herself to him, the ache of desire increasing its strum in her veins.

His hand wandered to her hair, hindered by the pins that held it in place. She broke the kiss and turned around to give him a better view.

Archie chuckled and followed her lead, his hands searching her hair before gently tugging each pin. With each one freed, more strands tumbled down, and he pressed warm kisses to her ear and neck. The sensation of his hands against her scalp, his lips against her skin, made Ruby’s pulse beat hard, and she bit her lip as a soft moan escaped.

“You like that?” Archie murmured against her ear.

“Mmhmm,” was all Ruby could say.

He chuckled as he continued his work, removing each pin in between kisses to her ears and neck. With the last pin out, he ran his fingers through her hair, and Ruby tilted her head back and shook her hair loose. Another constraint gone, Ruby revelled in the sensation of being free from her clothing after a long day, heightened all the more by the attentions from her husband, the last wall between them being dismantled brick by brick.

Ruby turned around to face Archie, his hands trailing her neck with his feather-light touch that sent sparks dancing under her skin. She frowned playfully upon seeing his fully-clothed frame before her. She began at his shoulders and eased her fingers under the straps of his suspenders and guided them down his shoulders before he lifted his hands out from the loops and let the straps hang. Then, her lips formed a shy smile as her hands settled at his waist. With her gaze fixed on her hands, she began to tug at the fabric of his shirt, slowly releasing it from the confines of his pants inch by inch. She didn’t dare look up, but she bit her lip to fight a grin when he took a sharp breath and his grip tightened slightly on her upper arms. She swallowed as her fingers grazed bare skin, warm and covered in soft fuzz at his navel. Unable to easily reach his middle with her lips, she instead stepped closer and pressed soft kisses to his neck as her hands continued the journey around his waist, her fingers slipped under his waistband until the fabric was free in a final tug. He tilted his head back, revealing the bob of his Adam’s apple, and Ruby could feel his pulse through the sensitive skin as she trailed her lips along the curve.

“Mmmmm,” Archie moaned, and Ruby grinned against the delicious rumble at his throat as she splayed her hands against the small of his back under his shirt. She hugged herself close, pressing her body to his as she nuzzled into the curve of his neck. She was sure she could feel the evidence of his arousal that matched the simmering heat rising in her own core. Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if they’d be able to keep the pace they’d set, but in truth, she was wholly unconcerned.

With a last kiss to his collarbone through his shirt, Ruby stepped back just enough to allow her to shift Archie’s shirt up his middle. She was almost too distracted by the task not to notice his impressive frame—with the toned muscle of a farmer—but notice she did, and she licked her lips, desire rolling through her like a threatening storm.

Unfortunately, Ruby had not counted on the top buttons of his shirt still being fastened, and before the garment could be completely removed, it snagged on his glasses.

“Oh, Archie, I’m sorry!” Ruby exclaimed, unable to keep back a snort at the ridiculous sight of his shirt pulled up over his face. She tried to help, but it soon became clear that her pulls and tugs only exasperated the situation as he all but flailed about. Finally, she took a step back and covered her mouth with her hand to muffle any giggles for fear of waking the baby, leaving Archie to wriggle out of the garment himself in a decidedly undignified manner.

Finally, he was freed, and Ruby smiled at the endearing image of her husband’s curls all tousled and his glasses askew, unaware of her gaze as he tossed the annoyance to the other bed. As quickly as the mood dissipated, however, the warmth in her chest soon returned to a simmer like a pot returned to a hot stove as she took in his half naked frame. Gingerly, she stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest while his hands settled on the small of her back. Her gaze flitted between his chest and his eyes, the soft down of hair tickling her palms. Her breath hitched in her throat as he held her, and Ruby’s pulse quickened at the intimacy with only the thin fabric of her shift separating her upper body from his.

Able to manage a hint of a smirk, she slid her hands up his chest, memorizing every muscle as her fingers journeyed over the dip of his collarbone and up his neck. The downy hair of his chest became smooth skin under the tips of her fingers until they reached the scruff under his chin and along his jaw. He swallowed, the bob of his Adam’s apple under her touch, and she licked her lips, pausing before she met his gaze. Her hands continued the journey along his cheeks until she landed on the wire frames of his spectacles. Slowly, she removed them, revealing his blue eyes more clearly. Her heart jumped in her chest to study the depths of what she saw—the swirling, cerulean blue of the ocean on the clearest of days, mysterious and beckoning her to drown in its vastness.

For a moment, she froze, lost to the moment as her hands hovered with his glasses in her grip. Every heartbeat counted down with each layer removed, creating a deeper intimacy until the sacred moment. Ruby inhaled sharply, her body finally reminding her to breathe. Archie’s hands covered hers before he gently took the spectacles from her and twisted in place to set them on the table behind him.

Ruby chuckled to herself, ducking her head before looking up to see him watching her, and she felt a different kind of warmth flush across her cheeks. “I, um… it’s been awhile,” she mumbled, feeling foolish. She also cringed at the unintentional mention of her first marriage, and she hoped that Archie hadn’t noticed.

Archie cupped her face and tilted her head up slightly to meet his gaze. “For me, too,” he assured her, his eyes full and smiling, and Ruby relaxed as he pressed his lips to hers. She melted into his touch, her body pressed to his as all concern flew from her mind, her whole self present in the moment. She splayed her hands over his middle, sliding them around to his back to hug him close as she returned his kiss. With each touch, her hunger grew, the desire stirring to life more and more quickly, and she forced herself to breathe evenly, feeling the danger of losing herself edge ever-closer. She resisted the urge to deepen the kiss, and pulled back just enough to hover her lips over his, his breath tantalizing as it fanned over her wet lips. She brushed her lips over his, a faint touch that heightened the want, and she could feel his own desire rising as he panted, his gaze fixed on hers to gauge the next move.

He snatched one last kiss more forcefully, startling her for a moment before he reached beside them to pull down the covers. Ruby took a deep breath as a smile bloomed over her features, her gaze fixed steady on Archie’s face as delight and desire bubbled in her chest. Archie quickly returned his attention to her and cupped the back of her neck, pressing soft kisses to her lips that she eagerly returned, almost teasing in their lightness. She closed her eyes, her hands still on his back, and she felt the movement of muscle as he turned her gently to position her between himself and the bed, his one hand on her waist. The back of her knees met the bed frame, and she lowered herself to the mattress, guided by Archie, who never broke contact.

The urge to watch his expression won over the sensation of focusing on his touch alone, and Ruby opened her eyes, pulling back slightly. She could see him more clearly in the lamplight, now that it illuminated his side rather than his back. She was too far gone to her emotions to manage a grin, her breaths coming short as his hand rose up her back while the other gently pressed on her shoulder. As if in a trance, she obeyed, a thrill running through her as she leaned back while he hovered over her, a dance where they instinctively moved together. She held her breath, awaiting his next attentions in the brief pause between kisses. He knelt on the bed and positioned one knee in between her legs while he held his weight over her with one hand braced at her side. She ran her hand up his bare arm, sensing the shiver that ran through him as she studied his features. The sense of love, the adoration she saw in the depths of his gaze washed over her in such fierceness she was sure she could drown in it. She cupped her hand around his neck and leaned up, tugging his lips to hers in a hungry kiss, and she inhaled sharply as the ache of need pounded deep, rising up to lick under her skin.

She swept her tongue past his lips, eager to deepen the kiss, but after a moment Archie pulled back. She frowned slightly, unable to search his expression as he quickly pressed soft kisses to the corner of her mouth and trailed his lips along her jaw.

Ruby tilted her head back and wrapped her arms around him, the heat of his bare skin under her fingers feeding her own desire, her body reacting to his touch without thought. She slid one hand over his shoulder blade—the strong muscle firm over his broad shoulders as he held himself up—and stroked his neck before digging her fingers into his hair, causing him to press himself to her.

“With my body, I pledge thee my troth,” Archie murmured against her ear like a prayer, his lips brushing against her skin, and Ruby let out a soft moan. In the midst of the sparks that flew between them, the air hung thick with a sort of reverence, the static of a building storm, and Ruby swallowed against another wave of emotion. While her body was quick to remember the act, there was a newness to it this time—a holiness to this physical joining, a seal to their commitment to each other. Flesh-and-blood as part of the sacred, not separate from it.

And then, all thought flew from her mind as Archie trailed hot kisses down her neck and shifted to rest on his elbow, his body gently resting on hers. She kept one hand in his hair as he edged lower while the other rested on the sheets beside her. As if to match the journey of his lips, his hand grazed along her side, and the slight pressure of his fingers through her chemise sent a thrill up her spine and down to her toes. She raised one knee up as her pulse beat quick, causing her undergarment to ride up and expose her lower half completely. Her breathing came heavy at the sudden coolness of the air before his hand met the bare skin of her thigh just above her stocking.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, her eyes closed to soak in the sensation. His hand found the edge of her shift and slipped underneath, his touch making her shiver despite its warmth. His lips continued the journey down her neck, along her throat and lingered at her collarbone before meeting the neckline of her undergarment, with each point of contact shooting straight to her core, feeding the flames that grew in her middle, desire coiling more and more tightly within her. Unfazed, he continued his kisses down her chest through the fabric, his hand at her thigh wandering up to shift the garment higher, his touch only increasing her hunger. Despite the barrier of her under-dress, she could feel his lips as they trailed between her breasts, her nipples hard, her whole body anticipating what was to come.

Her undergarment bunched up just under her breasts, Ruby became aware of her exposed middle, and she opened her eyes and lifted her head to glance down, the crop of auburn curls the only view of Archie’s head as he focused on the task at hand.

Ruby rested her hand on his head and lay back on the pillow, a sudden thought intruding on the moment. “Archie,” she said softly, unsure of how to voice the pesky thought. “I—I’m still not… I mean, after the baby…”

Archie’s head jerked up, and Ruby’s hand slid to his cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern furrowing his brow. “Do you want to stop?”

Ruby lifted her head and met his blue eyes, deep as a summer storm, and she was transfixed by the lamplight flickering in his gaze. Warmth bloomed in her chest, and she rushed to assuage his concerns, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “No, no,” she assured him, combing her fingers through his hair at his temple. “I just—my figure—my stomach isn’t quite what it was…” She let out a nervous chuckle, feeling slightly foolish at the pride with which she used to hold her trim waist. Somehow, her altered body hadn’t mattered until now.

“ _Sh-h-h-h_ ,” he said firmly before pressing his lips under her ribcage. Ruby couldn’t help but smile at his tenderness, how he lingered in each kiss until his mouth was just above her navel. “You are absolutely beautiful,” he assured her, and she held her breath. “Your stomach is beautiful,” he added in between kisses to her slack, stretch-marked skin, “because it gave us Peter.” Ruby relaxed under his ministrations, his hands now resting on her waist, and she watched him through wet eyes, a lump rising in her throat. “And,” he added, his voice hitting that deep tone that sparked the heat of desire under her skin, the slight scruff of his chin brushing against her stomach, “God willing, it will give us more children.”

“Lots more,” Ruby whispered with a faint chuckle, unable to say more beyond an incoherent murmur as her breath hitched in her throat when he dipped down, pressing a kiss to the hairline. She dug both hands into his hair and fought to keep herself from guiding him lower. His meaningful words mixed with his gentle touch made her head spin, desire building like the roll of the storm, the pounding waves growing more intense.

Archie kept his pace teasingly slow, and whatever inch of exposed skin wasn’t covered by his lips was caressed by his fingers, each touch deliberate as if part of a sacred act—a physical manifestation of the promise they had made to each other. Little by little, he worked his way up her middle, and she in turn gripped his shoulders, his neck, his scalp. He shifted her chemise up past her breasts and paid them equal attention, though she couldn’t help but notice that he quickened his pace as she slid one hand down his chest as far as she was able, tracing lazy circles a few inches past his collarbone before she arched into him, helpless to the need he stirred within her, desire winding its way around every limb, every inch of her.

Unable to go further, her chemise bunched as high as it would go, he slid one hand under her back and lifted her up to him, and Ruby clasped her hands around his neck. With one leg awkwardly slung over her own and half hanging off the bed, he shifted so that he rested on his knees in between her legs. He captured her lips, and Ruby hummed into his touch, his hungry kisses making her dizzy as his hands wandered to her waist and thighs, her legs spreading to accommodate his frame. The ache in her core continued to build, and Ruby fought the urge to quicken the pace, the sense of restraint heightening the sense of pleasure and anticipation.

As their kisses grew in fervour, Archie hooked his hands under her knees and lifted them up on either side of him. He caressed her thighs before his hands met the fabric of stockings and he slowly rolled them down her legs. Ruby felt a shiver run through her as more skin became exposed, his wandering touch intoxicating. His knees pressed against her inner thighs before she tucked her feet closer to herself, lifting them slightly so that Archie could tug her stockings off, and she breathed sharply as his touch shot through her with only the tease of release.

She grinned against his lips, a moan escaping as she dug her hands into his hair and wrapped her legs around him as best she could, cursing the fabric that still separated them—namely, her chemise and his pants. Her hands slid down his front to reach the waist of his pants, and she opened her eyes to aid the task at hand. The kiss broken, Archie chuckled, his panting matching her own eagerness. He slid his hands up her legs before joining her own where she fumbled with his buttons. Ruby’s pulse began to pound, the ache within increasing with need that drowned out all thought.

She quickly realized it was easier to let Archie take over, and she pulled her hands back. He shifted off the bed and stood up, undoing the last button, instantly freeing himself of his garments as he slid them down his legs and stepped out of them, yanking off his socks as a final step. Ruby licked her lips, barely able to take in his whole form before he joined her on the bed. The weight of him, the warmth of him so close, made every fibre in her body pulse in anticipation, wholly aware that, save for her chemise, there was nothing between them. Despite the heat that rose within her, the pounding of her heart in her chest and her core, Ruby also felt a calmness when she met Archie’s gaze. Her eyes fixed on his, she crossed her arms and grabbed the edge of her undergarment that had fallen around her waist, and he helped her edge it up over her head. For a moment, time froze as Archie tossed the fabric behind him, their eyes joined, and Ruby was certain their very breaths were in sync. Every part of her was laid bare to this man, and yet, she knew she had never felt more safe—and more _free_. Like the full moon’s brightness revealed from behind a fog of clouds as they rolled back, Ruby felt any last artifice melt away.

Suddenly, her mind was yanked back to the physical, the sensation of their knees and legs brushing as Archie closed the distance between them. They reached for each other, his hand cupping her face as her hands settled on his arms, their lips colliding in a passionate kiss, desperate to be as close as possible. With his other hand on her back, he gently laid her down, careful to support his own weight as he placed one arm beside her, then the other, to rest on his forearms. She could feel him against her, every point of contact shooting sparks through her, the liquid heat pooling in her core.

Archie pulled back slightly, breaking their kisses, and Ruby opened her eyes to meet his gaze. In the dim light, she could see his eyes shining, his brows raised in a simple question, and Ruby smiled, her heart full. _The two shall become one._ She spread her legs further, hugging one arm around his back, his muscles taut, while she lowered one hand to his member. Like a clap of thunder, she closed her eyes and guided him right, rolling her hips as they became joined in every possible way. Ruby gasped at the sensation of being completely filled, her heart shining as she opened up to him, desire pounding within her in rolling waves. Archie buried his head into the curve of her shoulder as he bucked against her in small thrusts, and Ruby followed his lead, arching into him as instinct took over. The storm revealed its full power, the release of every hurt from the last year as it was replaced by the deepest intimacy that radiated through them, joined in every possible way.

A moan escaped Ruby as she gave into the sensation, the freedom that came from letting go, of being completely swept away where nothing but the two of them existed. Together, they rode the wave until the motion slowed, desire receding to leave its pleasant heat. After a final shudder, Archie carefully pulled back and rolled to Ruby’s side, his body still touching hers.

Ruby closed her eyes and swallowed, taking a deep breath to savour what had just happened, surrounded by a warm glow.

She turned on her side and brought her hand to Archie’s chest, wrapping herself around him. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, unseeing, and she gave a satisfied smile as her senses sharpened and she was able to study his reaction. It took him a few moments longer for him to regain his composure, and she grinned against his chest, burying her face against him as her hair fell down, and she revelled in the rise and fall of him as he caught his breath.

Then, as if remembering himself, he slid her arm under her and held her close, turning his head to meet her gaze.

“I… I love you,” he murmured, stroking her arm, his touch lazy and wandering down her ribs and hip.

“I love you, too,” she echoed. She rose up slightly, one hand pressed on his chest, to meet his lips in a kiss to seal her words. He brushed his hand across her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ears before settling his hand on her neck.

After a couple of lingering kisses, a caress of her lip, Ruby relaxed into Archie and rested her head on his chest. She hugged one arm across his middle and slung one leg over his, the weight of sleep washing over her along with the warmth of the gentle intimacy. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close as he lay on his back, and Ruby breathed in the scent of him, delighting in the simple warmth of skin against skin. She smiled as his breathing evened out quickly, and she tilted her head up to confirm her suspicions—his eyes already closed, with a contented smile curling his lips.

She pressed another kiss to his chest and shifted slightly, her own body not far off in joining his in dreamland. There would be plenty of time for more, and it _had_ been a long day.

She fell asleep with a smile of her own, her heart light at the thought of what was to come. It had certainly been worth the wait.

A union complete.


	39. Bathtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie enjoy the first full day of their "honeymoon".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if I should split this up into two chapters but I figured they're pretty similar so I kept it all together. Please be aware that this chapter is also explicit. For those of you that like that kind of thing, I hope you enjoy!

Ruby awoke to a room filled with the light of the mid-morning sun. She smiled lazily to herself and stretched in an almost feline way, feeling pleasant and full without quite understanding why until her senses sharpened. Then, she bolted upright, her eyes wide as she realized she’d slept half the day away.

“Archie, we need to get up!”

She grasped at the covers, realizing she was completely naked, and she held them up to her chest.

“Mmm?” a muffled voice sounded beside her, and she turned to see her husband barely awake as he reached for her. Without thought, she lay back in his arms, her brow still furrowed in confusion.

“What about your chores?” she asked, tilting her head to meet his gaze as she shifted to face him.

“I fed and watered the animals last night so they’d be fine for today,” he explained, his eyes still closed.

Ruby arched a brow at him and smirked. “So, you were feeling rather confident last night then, hmm?” She propped herself up on her elbow so she could properly enjoy the sight of him, his features relaxed in a half-sleep.

“I’d hoped,” he murmured, his hand wandering to find her bare arm. He trailed his fingers up and down her skin, his touch light and lazy so that it sent shivers through her. He slowly opened his eyes and met her gaze. “It was a rather successful gamble.”

Ruby grinned at that. “Being a married man has made you a gambler, is that it?” She leaned down slightly, her hair falling across her cheek, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Something like that.”

Before Ruby knew it, Archie grabbed her upper arms and rolled her on top of him. Ruby squealed, delight rising in her middle, and she shifted her arms to either side of him to hold herself up over his chest. She could feel his desire stirring along with the warmth pooling in her own core, despite the blankets bunched awkwardly between them. She searched his eyes, free from his glasses and sparkling in the day-lit room, and she grinned as her hair fell down to frame their faces.

“Good morning, husband.”

“Good morning, wife.”

Archie wrapped his arms around her and held her close, forcing Ruby to rest all of her weight atop him with her arms at their sides, and she relaxed into him, giving into the pull between them and pressing another kiss to his mouth, tender and lingering. Though there was still a homestead to run, she wondered if they could put off the tasks of the day to resume what they’d begun the night before, a thought only half formed when Archie’s tongue swept passed her lips to deepen the kiss, which she eagerly returned.

They both pulled back, and Ruby let out a happy sigh as she studied Archie’s features, revelling in the warmth of her body pressed flush with his. He brought one hand up to her cheek and brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear as his eyes flitted back and forth to read her own. Her heart rose in her throat, and she felt transfixed, the longing to stay in his arms only heightened with the knowledge that, if she started something now, she’d be unable to stop.

Unfortunately, her motherly duties would be calling her at any moment, she was certain.

“I’m amazed a particular little man is still sleeping,” she said, brushing her lips against Archie’s chin.

He let out a soft moan and nodded. “I… I’m sure we can’t press out luck for much longer,” he agreed with a chuckle that rumbled through his chest.

With one last kiss, Ruby finally brought herself to rise, leaving her husband half-exposed with the blankets haphazardly draped across him. She rushed to the set of drawers and yanked out a chemise, throwing it on over her head and tugging it down before she went to Peter’s cradle.

Her son’s eyes were open, though only partially, and he focused on her with a little smile. “Hello, Precious,” she cooed, picking him up as he gurgled and waved his hands. “Yikes!” she exclaimed as the familiar sour smell hit her nostrils. “Poor little guy—you’re overdue for a changing.”

She glanced up to see her husband grinning at her from the bed, sitting up with the covers pulled up over his lower half. She furrowed her brow at him. “What is it?”

He shook his head. “You just look… very beautiful.”

Ruby snorted, though her heart was light and she could feel her cheeks warm. “Well, I’m afraid I have a distinctly _not_ beautiful task ahead of me,” she countered, shifting Peter to her shoulder and cradling his head. With one arm holding her son, she smoothed the blankets on the bed as best she could to create a surface for his changing. Then, she grabbed the small sheet on the chair by the door and spread it out before placing Peter on top.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Archie sneaking out of bed and making his way towards the drawers beside her. She felt like a schoolgirl, sneaking a peak at his naked form, more visible in the daylight. He certainly had nothing to be shy about, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she forced her gaze to return to Peter.

Sadly, there wasn’t time for more than a quick glance before her attentions were forced elsewhere—though her son’s gurgles and smiles certainly weren’t a hardship to be endured. After changing Peter and giving him a late breakfast, it was time for Ruby and Archie to eat. They were able to indulge with a lazy start to the day—which included Archie revisiting his old habits when he cooked the breakfast instead, a treat in which Ruby fully revelled—but there were other tasks that could not be ignored. In Ruby’s case, it meant laundry. Still, even the mundane felt different. Perhaps it was the calm that came from the absence of an energetic ten-year-old—or, perhaps it was the teasing presence of her husband as he carried in buckets of water from the pump, with the flex of his bare arms revealed with his shirt sleeves rolled up, or the pesky thought of knowing exactly what that grip that held the handle to the water pail felt like around her back, her waist, her thigh...

She threw herself into the chore, trying to find a respite from her distracting thoughts. The heat from the wash-water only seemed to heighten her daydreams, however, and Ruby wiped away the sweat from her brow as if to wipe away her desire that rose to the forefront.

In the daylight, Ruby couldn’t help but play the night’s events over in her mind, deepening the colour in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the steam over which she worked. She replayed how Archie’s hands wandered over her skin, his touch gentle despite his large grip.

And yet, she also couldn’t help but remember how it had been with her first husband—and consider how different two men could be. While Peter was never rough, he certainly had a hunger for her that he was quick to satiate. Ruby’s own appetite was voracious, and she’d never thought twice about their eager love-making.

But with Archie… She shouldn’t have been surprised at his care even in that—his steadiness, his deliberate touch that caressed her every curve, as if he wanted to savour every moment of the sacred act. And yet, despite the languid pace, it was no less thrilling.

Ruby couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to explore him in the same way, and she couldn’t even pretend she didn’t long for the evening hour as she twisted the clothes amongst the hot, soapy water, the steam making her hair curl as it rose up.

The day passed quickly enough as she took the opportunity to wash August’s things, along with bed sheets and blankets. In truth, it felt good to focus her energy on something productive to keep herself from dragging Archie away from his projects. She rolled her eyes at herself as her pulse quickened when her gaze rested on him by the barn as she hung up the laundry to dry. He was simply mending a fence, but Ruby couldn’t help but study every movement, straining to discern every curve as the familiar heat rose in her abdomen. She frowned when she realized she’d pinned up two sheets together on the clothesline, and she shook her head at herself with a chuckle.

Supper was a simple affair, much as lunch had been, for husband and wife seemed to have other appetites on their minds. Ruby noticed that Archie pushed himself in his work, also, and so—perhaps inspired by her task of the day—decided that it was a perfect evening for a bath. After supper, she convinced Archie to bring in more pails of water—a good excuse to bring him back to the house, perhaps—as she boiled the water on the stove and added it to the large tub. Though the air was warm, she still kept a medium-sized fire in the hearth as she filled the tub bucket by bucket, eagerly awaiting its rewards. Archie insisted he had some work to finish up outside, and so Ruby did her best to enjoy the rare moment of lazy solitude. The idea that he could enter at any moment only made it harder to keep her desire quelled.

Sadly, Archie returned when Ruby was finished and clad in a light chemise as she rocked Peter after his feeding.

“Well, there’s your pa,” Ruby murmured to her son with a teasing glance to her husband. “We were beginning to worry about him.”

Archie chuckled as he hung up his hat and crossed the room to them. He bent down for a kiss as she reached up to him in a familiar greeting. He ran his fingers through her wet hair, which became tangled in her tresses partway down. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Ruby shook her head to dismiss the concern. “All done for the night?” she asked.

“Mmhmm,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You both smell fresh and clean.”

“It should be plenty warm enough if you’re interested,” Ruby added with a nod to the tub.

“I take it that’s more than a suggestion.”

“Perhaps.”

She grinned at him as he pressed a quick kiss to the infant’s head before he took a step back, smiling as he shrugged off his suspenders. Ruby’s pulse quickened, and she bit her lip before fixing her gaze on Peter. She wasn’t sure exactly how she wanted everything to play out, but she imagined the infant in her arms would only hamper the mood. Besides, he was fading fast in her arms.

“I’ll be right back,” she assured Archie before she retreated into the bedroom. She couldn’t help but peek behind her, his back to her as he stripped out of shirt and pants. There was a delicious moment when she saw the silhouette of his naked form, the curve where his waist became hip and then upper thigh, before he stepped into the tub and became hidden from view, save for his hair.

It took a few minutes for Peter to settle down completely. Ruby stepped back into the main room, her heart rising in her chest as she took in the scene in front of her. The room was quiet—a rarity in the Hopper household—save for the crackling of the fire. Ruby took small steps and noticed the laps of the water as Archie moved in the tub. She realized he was whistling to himself, the same melody that he sang to Peter to lull him to sleep, and emotion stirred in her chest.

With steady steps, Ruby closed the distance between herself and her husband, slowing making her way around the tub to face him. The glow of the fire brought out the red in his hair, and his eyes sparkled when he met her gaze.

“Hey,” he murmured, sinking a bit lower in the tub as if to hide, and Ruby smiled softly.

“Hello,” she breathed, her heart in her throat as she padded around to the side. Her eyes fixed on his, she stood beside him, deciding on her next move as her pulse beat hard in her veins.

Slowly, she reached for the washcloth and soap in his hands, her gaze flitting between them and his features, as if to ascertain his permission. He handed them to her, his features bright and warm, and Ruby felt like she was already melting like soft wax before him.

She lathered the soap on the cloth and let the bar drop into the water before bringing the cloth to his neck. She could see his features tense, holding his breath as if he was transfixed, and he licked his lips. He gave a small nod, and Ruby began the journey, leaning over slightly to caress his neck and shoulders with the cloth. Methodically, she moved along his body, covering his broad shoulders and chest, memorizing every dip and muscle through the fabric. She pulled her gaze away from his and focused on the trail her hands made, drinking in the sight of him. His light hair, soft under her touch, was barely visible in the dim light that flickered, the shadows that stretched and moved on the other side of the tub.

She could see his Adam’s apple bob out of the corner her eye and she licked her lips, desire rising within her like silken strands connecting his body to hers, tightening within her. The coils of want grew more taut as she continued her exploration, the washcloth barely in her grip as she ran it along the length of one arm, and then the other. The solid muscle made her head spin, and she had to stop herself from increasing the speed of the task.

She let out a chuckle as the washcloth slipped from her fingers, but she didn’t bother to retrieve it—not when her bare hands against his skin was so much more delicious. She snuck a glance to his features, uncommonly serious as his eyes darkened in arousal, which only heightened Ruby’s want. He kept his gaze lowered as she dipped her hand down while the other rested on the edge of the tub. Her touch wandered over his abdomen, zig-zagging from side to side, caressing one hip bone, and then the other, until he shifted with a small groan in the tub.

Unable to see much below the water in the dim light, she returned her gaze to Archie’s face, determined to discover what affected him the most. Slowly, her fingers continued their ministrations until they reached the hairline and he took a sharp breath before arching into her touch.

“Ruby,” he moaned, and she could feel his muscles tighten under her hand as he refused to meet her gaze, his breaths coming heavy as her own intensified. She finally brought her fingers to his base, and, gently stroking, she found him fully erect. She curled her fingers around his member and stroked along his full girth. He closed his eyes, and she could see him fight for control even still.

Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and tugged her to him, crashing her lips to his in a desperate kiss. “I want you,” he gasped as he wrenched himself away.

Ruby obeyed the invitation without thought, helpless to the pull he had over her as she scrambled over the edge of the tub, unaware of the water that splashed over the side or her chemise that became fully soaked. She crouched over him, his one hand digging into her arm as he kissed her again, a hungry kiss that took her breath away. His evident need for her quickly stoked the embers of desire into flames that licked under her skin, a heat mirrored by the warm water that assaulted her senses.

As they broke apart, Ruby rested her forehead against Archie’s, their breaths mingling between them. She maneuvered as best she could in the tight space, her knees pressed against the sides of the tub with Archie’s legs in between.

With one hand, she maneuvered around the pesky fabric of her chemise and found his cock to resume her ministrations. With the other, she began to work on herself, though she was not far from joining him. He brought his hand to hers, and Ruby smiled, meeting his gaze as she positioned his fingers at her clitoris.

“There,” she murmured before she inhaled sharply as he worked the bundle of nerves. She brought her hands up and braced herself on his shoulders. “Yes,” she gasped, the pounding in her core building quickly, aching for release under his skilled touch, the water heightening the sensation.

She captured his lips, her tongue sweeping in to deepen the kiss as she instinctively lowered herself on Archie’s hand, her body seeking more pressure to relieve the ache within her. Gone was the sense of slow and tender exploration, replaced by an animalistic desire that surprised her. She wrenched herself away from his mouth, fighting to focus on him as his fingers found her folds, and he slipped one digit inside.

“I want to feel you around me,” he said in a deep rasp that struck Ruby’s core, and she felt herself nearing the edge. She let out a moan, eager for more, and she had to remind herself that she’d begun by trying to pleasure _him_.

“Mmmm,” she managed, her body screaming for more. He removed his hand as the moment drew near, shifting to grip the edges of the tub. She could feel him at her entrance as she struggled to position herself in the cramped space, digging her fingers into his shoulders. She focused on his features, watching his expression as he entered her, and she gasped at sensation, the stretch of him filling her, slightly more forceful than before.

He arched into her, his eyes dark and not quite seeing. Ruby wrapped her hands around his neck, shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to rest her knees on the tub floor. Archie regained his focus and met her eyes as his grip tightened on the edge of the tub and he sat up slightly, his legs bent and his feet pressed against the far edge. He watched Ruby, letting her set the pace as she lifted herself up slightly before lowering herself down again. She could see him close to losing himself as her inner walls clamped around him, the pressure building in her own core, a tight coil about to release. She increased the pace as much as she could in the water, ignoring the lapping over the sides of the tub as the ribbons of desire coiled around them both while they moved together, a perfect storm.

She could see it in his features, the release of his orgasm as he shuddered, and Ruby moved her hand to her clit to bring herself over the edge, the silken bands wound around them, pulled taut right before they snapped. With a last thrust and a rub over the swollen nub, she fell, stars bursting in her vision as she let go.

She relaxed into Archie’s arms as he leaned back against the tub, the two of them breathing heavily.

“That was….” he trailed off, his voice rough. His fingers gripped her back through the wet fabric of her chemise before relaxing slightly.

“Mmhmm,” Ruby murmured with a throaty chuckle, her own body rising and falling with the movement of his chest as they panted together in almost greedy gulps.

They stayed like that for a few moments, the heady silence around them. Neither moved, since the tight space made it almost impossible to adjust their position, and Ruby enjoyed the sensation of him still inside her, combined with the lukewarm water that hugged every surface. She breathed deeply, burying her face in his neck with her arms still wrapped around him.

“I…” Archie began slowly, and Ruby gave him a gentle squeeze. “It took every ounce of willpower not to hide you away with me all day today,” he murmured.

Ruby chuckled and pressed her lips to his jaw, warmth spreading through her at his admission. “So you weren’t just avoiding me?”

“If I was, it’s only because I think I want you too much.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, and Ruby let out a hum of pleasure, her heart full. She trailed kisses along his jaw and dug her fingers into his hair that was slightly wet at the base of his neck. “Well, you’re in luck,” she breathed, her lips brushing his ear. She gave a nip to his earlobe for effect before she added, her pulse already quickening once more—“I’m all yours, Archie Hopper.”

 

* * *

 

 “I’m all yours, Archie Hopper.”

Archie let out a moan, emotion washing over him in such fierceness he was sure he could feel his heart pushing against his ribs. His mind was a little foggy at the echo of pleasures that had assaulted his senses, his blood still beating hard in his veins as he breathed deeply. He hugged Ruby close, the lukewarm water only heightening the intimacy of their bodies pressed together. She continued her attentions to his ear, her warm breath tickling the skin in between nips of her teeth and soft caresses of her lips. Her fingers stroked his neck, leaving wet trails with the ghost of a chill—the damp skin exposed to the air in contrast to the heat that still simmered in his bones.

He gave a lazy smile, his eyes closed as he moved one hand up her back to cup her neck, the other lower to caress her rear. There was something delicious in the languid movements after such excitement, and part of him wished to freeze this moment, the two of them joined together. He was highly aware of her breasts pressed against his chest, the rhythm of her pounding heart, his cock still within her, and his emotions swelled at the simplicity of it all—the sheer delight of holding his wife in his arms and knowing her in every possible way.

The most amazing thing was, of course, that she wanted him, too.

They stayed like that for a little while, with lazy, exploring touches—as much as they could manage, anyway, still crammed in the tiny space—until Ruby started to shift slightly. Archie straightened and moved his hands to her ribs to help her up. He met her gaze in the dim light, the hearth beside them only a glow, and he returned her smile.

“I… I should probably let you get up,” she said with a chuckle.

Archie grinned and nodded, bringing one hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, the lower half of her tresses still wet where they had dipped into the bathwater. Her gaze flitted back and forth, as if to read his, and he held his breath in the magnetic pull between them, her green eyes flickering in the remnants of the fire, like a meadow bathed in the golden light of dusk. Slowly, she leaned down and closed her eyes, pressing a kiss to his lips. He drew in a deep breath, his brow furrowed as he dug one hand into her hair, returning the kiss as if they were parting for longer than a few moments. He let out a breathy chuckle as she pulled back, his hand still clasping her neck. Remembering himself, he let his fingers slide down her arm to her hand, now resting on the edge of the tub.

Her eyes still fixed on his, she crossed her arms in front of her and reached for the hem of her garment floating on the water. In a swift motion, she lifted it over her head before dropping it in the bathwater behind her with a splash. Still locked in his gaze, she rose out of the water and he slipped out of her. His breath hitched in his throat, to see her completely exposed, the porcelain skin of her breasts and middle. More than that, it was the look in her eye—almost proud, as if she knew what she had to offer.

And, like she had said, it was all for him.

He licked his lips, helplessly immersed in the effect she had on him as she stepped out of the tub. She leaned over, collecting her long, dark hair—almost ebony in the dimly lit room—to squeeze out the excess water into the tub, causing ripples to scatter just over his body, reminding him of his nakedness. She lowered her eyes, showing off her dark lashes—or sneaking a look at his own frame under the water, he wasn’t sure—until she met his gaze at the final moment before she turned around, showing off her hourglass figure, droplets of water hugging ever curve as they slowly trailed down her bare skin.

Goodness, he was pretty sure he would never be used to this.

“There’s no—well, it’s too bad I forgot to bring out any more towels,” she said as she took a few paces towards the hearth. She grabbed a log and placed it on the embers before stoking them. Archie brought one knee up out of the water, realizing the stiffness setting into his muscles after being in one position for so long, but truth be told, it was a cheap price to pay.

Especially when the spot in which he found himself gave him such an angle of his wife’s backside as the fire sparked to life, a sight he could still enjoy even if it was blurry without his glasses.

“Is the view to your satisfaction, Mr. Hopper?”

Archie regained his focus to realize that Ruby was looking at him over her shoulder, and he swore he could feel heat creep into his cheeks. “It’s perfect,” he breathed, unable to come up with a more witty response.

Ruby flashed him a grin that sent his heart fluttering in his chest. At least he was predictable.

“I don’t know if I trust your biased opinion, but I’ll take it,” she teased with a giggle. “Now, how about some tea while you finish up? I’m afraid I interrupted your bath-time.”

Archie chuckled and lowered his gaze. “I suppose you did.” He sat up and searched for the washcloth and soap, easily found by his foot under the discarded chemise that floated in the water.

He could make out Ruby’s form by the stove as she went through the familiar motions, adding kindling to the fire and setting the kettle to the stovetop. Truth be told, he was far from attentive to the task of washing when he wanted nothing more than to close the distance between himself and his wife. He wished he could see her better, but he could still make out the tilt of her head as she measured the tea leaves, and he could hear the faint tune that she hummed to herself. For all that everything was changing, he treasured the moments that continued as they’d always been.

A cozy silence fell around them as they worked, and Archie’s thoughts began to wander. There was something intoxicating about the way they could continue on with such mundane tasks after what had just passed between them—and yet, it was almost baffling, the self-assuredness with which Ruby carried herself after… all that. And here he was, a bumbling idiot when he was pretty sure she had a connection straight to his soul—a string that, with a simple tug, could crash his heart into hers.

And yet—well, he certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.

“Are you cold?” he asked as she poured the tea from teapot into two mugs, with a splash of milk in each. He was starting to feel the chill, himself, as the bathwater cooled, his damp arms and neck exposed to the air. The heat of the fire beside him was certainly welcomed.

“Not particularly,” she assured him as she made her way towards him with ginger steps, careful to keep both mugs level, one in each hand. “It’s a warm evening.”

“Thank you,” he murmured as he took the offering, sitting up in the tub, sending the water to lap softly against the sides and his chest. He couldn’t help but think that she looked like Eve herself, completely naked with her long hair loose and draped down her front, her breasts only partially covered. Archie realized he only just understood what Adam might have felt in the garden of Eden. He shook his head to dismiss the thought, feeling it crept a little too closely to the edge of blasphemy, though he smiled to himself.

“You’re welcome,” she replied. Archie thought he caught a hint of a shy smile as she pulled a chair up to the side of the tub and cradled the mug in her hand.

He took a slow sip as he collected his thoughts. “I… I promise I won’t pull you in again if you want to get closer.”

Ruby giggled, ducking her head so that her hair fell in front of her face. “Well, I, um—I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

“Oh, really?”

“Much. I wouldn’t complain _much_.”

Archie studied Ruby as she met his gaze over the rim of her mug. He couldn’t quite make her out—not entirely. On the one hand, she seemed very composed and confident. On the other hand, he was almost certain he sensed a shyness there.

With warmth blooming in his chest, he took a gulp of tea before he stretched and placed it on the kitchen table beside him. He then turned to Ruby and took her hand, holding it in his while his other hand ran up and down her arm. She flashed another smile that he was sure shot right through him, a bolt of lightning through to his core.

She scooted closer and let her hand drop in the water, and he released his grip, letting her twirl her fingers in the liquid. “Archie, this is almost cold!” she gasped. “And look at your fingers.” She pressed the tips of her fingers to his, now embarrassingly wrinkled. She stood up and stretched over him to place her cup on the table, and Archie couldn’t help but let his gaze rest on her breasts that swung gently. His focus was quickly averted, however, when she disappeared to the bedroom, and his heart sank slightly.

“Here,” she said, scurrying back to his side.

She held a towel out for him, and Archie gave a small smile. He took a deep breath, cursing himself for still feeling a little shy in front of his own wife, his hands gripping the sides of the tub to hoist himself up. He could feel the slight burn in his muscles from sitting for so long, but he certainly had no regrets—aside from the decidedly undignified act of getting out of a tub. And yet, when he met Ruby’s eyes, any concern melted from his mind—the fact that he’d just dripped water all over the floor, or how his body was completely exposed to Ruby’s scrutiny. Instead, he was met with her warm smile, her green eyes filled with adoration, and his heart skipped a beat for the countless time.

Without a word, Ruby threw the towel over his shoulders and began to rub. Archie swallowed, waiting to see—hoping—where it may lead. She worked gently at first, up and down one arm, and then the other, in small circles. He could already feel the friction of the fabric warm his skin, a teasing precursor of what was to come. She then walked around him slowly to give her attention to his back, running the towel over both shoulders blades and slowly down his to the small of his back.

He swallowed hard when her touch wandered to his buttocks, and he couldn’t help but clench, despite the care in which she worked.

“Just relax,” she murmured, her voice smooth and sultry. She was still using the towel, but Archie couldn’t deny he wished the barrier would disappear, the tantalizing promise of skin on skin enough to quicken his pulse.

He looked over his shoulder as she made her way back to his front, and he followed her with his gaze. She looked up at him through her lashes and smiled—more brazen this time—as she finished off his legs, her ministrations a teasing distance from his member. He could feel desire rising, and he fought the impulse to carry her off to the bedroom.

With one last rub of the towel by his foot, she stood and haphazardly discarded it on a nearby chair. Even in the inches of space between them, he could feel the heat of her body radiating, a pull like gravity that he was sure no man could fight for long.

Then, in a moment of delicious contact, she splayed her hands on his chest, her dainty fingers pressed into his skin, a light touch that all but burned as it temporarily satisfied his longing before it sent strands of desire winding through him in increasing strength. He lifted his hands to cup her elbows, his gaze fixed on hers. Her green eyes, usually bright as the new spring growth, swam with a certain intensity he hadn’t seen before this week, like the depths of the forest that beckoned to him. For a moment, all was still between them, the air charged like a summer storm, sparking over his skin, and anticipation buzzed in his veins at what new sensations they could explore.

Archie tilted his head and leaned in slightly, licking his lips, daring to drop his gaze to her mouth. Instead of closing the distance, however, Ruby pulled back. Archie started and raised a brow at her as she bit her lip, a sultry expression colouring her features that made his pulse quicken all the more. As she lowered her gaze, she dropped her hands from his chest and took one of his hands in hers before gently tugging him to the bedroom.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, far from disappointed at being lead in such a direction. She seemed to enjoy the role, and he was more than happy to reap the benefits. Truth be told, he marveled at how quickly her touch could awaken desire, especially after being spent not long ago.

He realized his breathing was shallow as she positioned him in front of the bed and gently pushed him down. He obeyed, unable to help himself from bringing his hands to her waist to tug her close as he looked up at her.

“I want to explore every inch of you, Archie Hopper,” she murmured, running her hands through his hair, and he closed his eyes at the sensation of fingertips exploring his scalp, her touch sending ripples of warmth through him, stoking the flames to life. He slid his arms around her waist and hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her stomach before nuzzling against her heated skin.

She giggled. “Not yet,” she protested, her voice a pitch higher than before. He chuckled as she pried his arms from her waist and he managed one last kiss to her stomach before she stepped back. He tilted his head up to meet her gaze, his hands resting on the bed on either side of him.

Her features relaxed into a warm smile, her hands fluttering around his face before cupping his jaw, and she bent down to press a kiss to his lips. It was surprisingly soft and lingering, a tender caress that still hinted at the passion that simmered underneath.

As if to prevent herself—or him—from deepening the kiss, she pulled back, breaking contact briefly before trailing her lips down his jaw. Slowly, she worked, her soft hair falling on his chest as she bent down, her hands on his shoulders, tightening her grip. He was even more helpless to the sensation of her lips against a tender spot on his neck and he let out a moan as she sucked, sure that she had a direct line to the innermost part of him.

Continuing lower, she knelt in front of him, her hands sliding around to his back and digging into his skin as her teeth nipped at his chest. He spread his legs, highly aware of every point of contact, and he gripped the edge of the mattress on either side of him, struggling to keep the pounding heat within him from rising too quickly. As her lips continued their journey lower, her hands stroked his ribs, caressed his waist, before resting on his hips.

“Ruby,” he breathed as he dug one hand into her hair. He glanced down to see her watching him before trailing her tongue around his navel. The wet skin became chilled, a contrast that only heightened the heat within him, building in pounding waves, his yearning for her more than evident as tension coiled in his lower abdomen.

“You’re making this too quick,” she teased, her voice a pitch lower than usual, warm and sultry as her lips brushed just below his navel.

“Please,” he begged, the heat quickly building in pressure, his desire for her an aching need. The pressure of her fingers, the soft skin of her lips, the suction of skin against teeth coaxed moans of pleasure from him, and he instinctively arched into her, letting his head fall back as she pried control from him—control that he gave most willingly. It was intoxicating, this sensation of being vulnerable to the person he trusted most in the world, his soul laid bare, and any sense of self-doubt melted away in her skilled hands, both fierce and tender all at once. His body an instrument, her attention to his desire only increased the aching need, the heat pounding in his core as the silken strands wound tighter and tighter, the slow pace almost unbearable as the heat threatened to bubble up in a violent churning until he was sure he would burst.

He clenched his fists and took a sharp breath as her tongue found his member and ran down the length of it, his brow furrowed as the delicate touch stirred such violent need within him. He kept his eyes closed, his hands at his sides, not trusting himself to keep from grabbing her and taking her there on the floor, as if he was about to throw himself off the edge with abandon.

“Almost,” she murmured against the delicate skin before she took him in her mouth, completely surrounding him, bringing her hand up to cover his base. She quickly began to increase the friction and he bucked against her, his body taking over.

What little thought remained flew from his mind as the tension snapped, violent heat crashing over him as he tumbled over the edge, helpless to the pleasure of letting go. When he was able to regain his focus, he saw Ruby hovering over him, and he realized he’d fallen back on the bed.

“I…” he managed, struggling to focus on her gaze. He could barely distinguish the glint in her eyes in the lamplight that lit her from behind, but there was no hiding the almost feline smile that bloomed across her features. He took a deep breath and brought his hand up to her cheek, brushing aside the hair that fell down and framed her face.

“That didn’t last nearly long enough,” she teased, wrinkling her nose at him before turning serious. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his in a fierce kiss, and Archie’s breath hitched in his throat as he dug his fingers into her hair, his heart pounding against his ribcage. Arching into her, he trailed his hand down her neck and shoulder, making the now-familiar journey down her ribs, the valley of her waist, to the delicious curve of her rear. Emotion washed over him, a softer echo of the passion from moments before, an emotion that matched the physical in its strength, which would surely drown him.

All too soon, she pulled back, and Archie opened his eyes to see the green depths of her gaze flitting back and forth to study his. He could see that she felt it, too, this connection between them, this cord that joined them more tightly together with each union, and it made his heart swell in his chest all the more.

He shifted on his elbows and raised himself up as Ruby guided him by his elbow. He took her in his arms and she perched on his knee, her arms sliding around his neck, her hair tickling his shoulder as he brushed his lips against her jaw.

“I can’t help—but feel—like I got—the better end of that deal,” he murmured into between kisses, hoping the low pitch to his voice was appealing. He smiled against her skin as she tilted her head back, a purr of approval rumbling her throat.

“Mmhmm,” she managed, her grip tightening on his shoulders. “Well, the night is still young.”

Archie chuckled against her neck before pulling back, and Ruby straightened to meet his gaze. She arched a brow at him, the twinkle in her eye stoking the embers of desire that nestled in his core, ever-heated and—it seemed—far too easily stoked. He’d have to get creative, but his pulse began to quicken, eager to discover new ways he could make his wife sing under his attentions.

Feeling brazen, he wrapped his arms around her and grinned, crashing her to the mattress with him as she let out a squeal.

Such bliss was surely more than any man had a right to feel.


	40. Apple Blossoms and Other Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie continue to enjoy their time together as they realize how much everything has changed—and how much they have to look forward to.

The next few days passed in such a dreamy haze that Ruby felt she was floating on a cloud, certain that her feet barely touched the ground. Every fibre in her being felt weightless, as if she could reach up and touch Heaven itself. A blasphemous thought, perhaps, but Ruby kept it to herself, nestled under her heart to match the grin that was fixed on her lips.

Well, that was, when she wasn’t kissing her husband, who knew better than to keep his distance for too long. In truth, she had to laugh at how often they both found excuses to cross each other’s paths: an extra cup of tea or coffee in the middle of the day, a run to the pump for fresh water, a stroll with the baby so he’d get enough fresh air. The shy glances and hesitant touches soon gave way to more intentional caresses as they learned each other more and more intimately. She already knew Archie pretty well, of course, but there was something intoxicating about knowing him fully: the small birthmark nestled just under his left hipbone, the sensitive spot on his neck that made him moan, the particular dark shade of his eyes when he lost control. His attentions to her were no less thrilling, how his large hands, roughened from years of farm work, caressed her skin so tenderly, he found ways to make her hum in pleasure of which she hadn’t yet been aware.

Perhaps equally as exciting as their newfound physical intimacy was the chance they had to talk about their future together. While it had felt like months since Ruby had almost left, it had only been just under a fortnight. The reality in front of them—while everything they’d hoped for—had been a foolish dream not long before, and now it demanded practical plans that covered more than a week or a month’s time.

In an indulgent break—something that had become quite common in the last couple of days—Ruby and Archie took a walk in the afternoon sun with Peter strapped to Ruby’s front. Their hands clasped, they strolled through the rows of apple trees at the east side of the house, nearing the end of their blossoming. The delicate white petals graced the trees like blushing snow with their hints of pink. Ruby’s mouth watered at the promise of apples in a few months, remembering Archie’s words from one of their first meals together.

“Do you still think there will be apples this year?” she asked, hugging his arm.

“Should be,” he assured her. “There’s been a good amount of rain this spring, too, and this sun sure helps.”

Ruby flashed him a grin, a smile he returned as his eyes crinkled and his dimples deepened.

In a girlish impulse, she threw back her head and closed her eyes to drink in the warm summer sun, high in the sky, poring over them as if to wholeheartedly approve of the happiness they shared and the plans they made. She continued like that for a few paces, letting Archie lead her as she soaked in the dappled rays of sunlight that poked through the branches.

Finally, she opened her eyes, blinking away the spots from her vision as she rubbed her neck. Archie chuckled faintly beside her and she turned to him. “What is it?” she asked, and her eyes narrowed teasingly.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied with a squeeze of her hand. When she kept her eyes fixed on him, he continued. “Only… you look so beautiful, and with your head tilted back and your eyes closed, you look like some sort of garden nymph, out surveying her domain.”

“A garden nymph, hmm?”

“A beautiful garden nymph.”

Ruby smiled and glanced down, hugging Archie’s arm. “I guess I can’t complain about that,” she teased.

They’d come to the end of the small orchard and now stood at the wild brush where some wild berries grew—a fact of which Ruby was only made aware when August had finally confessed it to her one day when he’d returned to the house with his mouth stained red and no appetite to speak of for lunch.

“There might still be some strawberries here if the animals haven’t gotten them all,” Archie said as he crouched down and began to look through the thick branches. Ruby tugged at her handkerchief from under the neckline of her dress and handed it to him, hoping his search would prove fruitful. In the end, he retrieved only a small handful, but it looked a feast to Ruby as they settled down under a nearby tree, a welcome respite from the sun that had grown hot in the middle of the day.

Ruby sat perched against the base of the tree, her back resting on its trunk with her feet tucked under her, while Archie reclined on the ground, his head in her lap. She took Peter out of his sling and gave him to Archie to settle him on his chest. Peter held his head up for short spurts, his wide eyes fixed on his ma and pa before he became distracted by a bird or the rustling leaves above. Ruby cooed at him and Archie chuckled, resting one hand on his son’s back to secure him in place. The domestic scene made Ruby’s heart swell in her chest for the countless time that week, and she breathed deeply as she leaned back against the tree. She reached down to the handkerchief spread out by Archie’s shoulder and grabbed a plump strawberry, picking out the stem before popping it into her mouth. It’s sweet juices burst in her mouth, and she grinned. It was not lost on her, the blessing of this life that seemed so full, so free from worry. Even the air smelled sweet, the June grass blowing in the breeze that carried the hint of apple blossoms and wildflowers.

“I’ve been thinking,” Archie said, snacking on the berries with one hand and rubbing Peter’s back with the other. “It will work out well, that you’re staying.”

“Oh, you’ve only just decided this?” Ruby couldn’t resist teasing.

Archie chuckled, the rumble in his chest causing Peter to look up at his pa before resting his head. “I just mean, with Dr. Whale joining us on Saturday, I’ll probably be called away a bit more than usual. It will be good that you’re home with August.”

Ruby smiled and picked up another strawberry, biting off the fruit before discarding the stem behind her. “Mmhmm,” she agreed. She couldn’t help but think that August might have been spending some extra days with the Nolans if all had gone according to their original plan. The thought tugged at her chest, but not with as much force as it had a few days ago, as if the threat of that old life was finally beginning to feel like a bad dream. This new life—this solid, warm man before her—was far more real. “I suppose it’s fortunate that Dr. Whale didn’t come last Saturday, then,” she added with a smirk, despite the fact that Archie couldn’t see her. She rested one hand on his shoulder.

“There is that,” Archie agreed. He reached up to squeeze her hand. “I am certainly glad we’ve had… this time together.”

“Me, too.”

He let go of her hand to help himself to another strawberry, and Ruby did the same. After a moment, he said, “There’s something else I’ve been thinking about. I know we’ve mentioned that we’d both like more children, but I was wondering if you’d thought more about it.” He shifted slightly on her lap and hooked one foot over the other. “It does… it seems like something important to be of one mind about.”

Ruby smiled and looked out before her to their little cabin and August’s tree-house. She absentmindedly brought her hand up to Archie’s head and ran it through his hair as she thought over her answer.

“Peter and I always said we’d have a brood of ten or fourteen children,” she admitted. “But after this one here…” she trailed off, nodding to Peter, and Archie tilted his head back to meet her gaze with a smile before returning his focus to the baby. “I don’t think I’d choose quite that many. But maybe something in the middle.” The thought of having more children with Archie—little girls and boys with his blue eyes and fiery red hair, perhaps—made her heart swell in her chest, and she gave his shoulder a squeeze with her free hand.

“I can’t say I’d consent to as many as ten,” Archie replied. “At least, not if they’re anything like August.” They both laughed. “But I’ve always loved the idea of a large family. I think—I think it would be nice to have a couple of brothers and sisters for Peter and August. God willing.”

Ruby nodded. “God willing,” she echoed. Of course, one never knew exactly how life would go, but it certainly didn’t hurt to make a semblance of plans. The way they’d been spending their time, who was to say they hadn’t begun to grow their family already? Ruby shook her head at the thought, praying things hadn’t begun _quite_ so soon. There was only so much change a person could take in less than a month!

Before she could mull it over, however, when Archie continued with another question. “Did your grandmother ever have plans to join you out here?”

Ruby ran her hands through Archie’s hair. “We’d talked about it a little bit,” she said. “I tried to convince her that she should join us once we were settled, but I didn’t realize how hard the trip could be. I mean, she’s a tough woman, but I don’t know if I could ask her to do that.”

Archie nodded, causing his head to bob up and down under her hand. “It’s too bad it’s so far—it would be nice to meet her some day. She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

Tears unexpectedly pricked Ruby’s eyes as she pictured Granny with Peter and August. “She is,” she agreed. “I’m worried about her back east all by herself, but she’s got a life out there. Who knows, though—maybe we can convince her to come out to see her great-grandsons. Or you and I could visit Boston…”

Archie squeezed her hand as she trailed off. “It must be hard, now that you’re not going to see her for a little while.”

 _Or ever_.

Ruby let out an emotional chuckle. “I’m glad I’m not leaving, but yes—that was the one golden light of my going back east.” She pictured her grandmother’s reaction once she received the telegraph that Archie had sent when he was in town that week explaining what had happened, and her heart lurched in her throat. Even a woman as stoic as Violet Lucas would be fighting back tears, she was sure. “Perhaps one day she can meet her great-grandsons, though.”

“Her great-grandsons—I like that. I think August would like to have a grandmother.”

“Mmhmm,” Ruby agreed, grinning with watery eyes. “And to meet her son-in-law,” she added, her voice light, and Archie chuckled. It seemed an impossible task, but she prayed that they could one day all be reunited. And perhaps, with the train making its way farther west, the journey would be easier for the woman who would refuse to admit to her age. And, should there be any more children in their future…

They sat in silence for a little while, and Ruby continued to stroke Archie’s scalp with one hand, her other hand at his neck. He let out a hum, and Ruby smiled to herself, marveling at the intimacy of such a simple touch. She could see that Peter’s eyes were closed, asleep on his father’s chest, and she leaned over to see if Archie had joined him.

He tilted his head back slightly and met her gaze. Perhaps it was the fact that his features were upside-down, but Ruby thought he looked far younger than his years, his expression relaxed as the shadows of the tree leaves above danced over him.

“I’m still here,” he assured her, and Ruby smiled back.

After a pause, he licked his lips, his mouth parting as if he wanted to say something. Then, a question. “Is it always like this?” he asked, his features almost creased in sincerity.

Ruby furrowed her brow as she cupped Archie’s face in her hands, leaning over him in her lap. “Is what always like this?”

He looked away with a chuckle, and Ruby wondered if a faint blush coloured his cheeks. “I’ve never been married before,” he explained. “I thought I knew, but this—this connection we have.” He returned his gaze to hers, and Ruby became transfixed on his clear blue eyes in the shifting June sun. “This wanting you is almost more than I can bear.”

Ruby grinned and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, upside down. With a small smile she sat up and relaxed against the tree, chewing her lip for a moment. “It… it was different with Peter,” she admitted. She realized she wasn’t as worried to talk about her first husband as she might have been earlier. Still, she was careful to avoid comparing the two men too often, but every now and then comparisons sprung to mind. At least the memories—the contrasts between the two men—didn’t hold the sting that they used to, all those months ago.

She stroked Archie’s cheek with her thumb and returned her other hand to his hair, running it through his curls to make his hair stand up on end. She smiled to herself as she recalled how angry Archie’s calm temperament had made her when she’d first come to live with him and August. “It’s silly, but I feel like Peter and I were so young. And, truth be told, we were married for such a short time.” She took a deep breath, calculating that she had, indeed, been Mrs. Hopper for longer than she’d been Mrs. Smith. “We were so eager, and our… well, intimate time together was rather similar every time.”

Her features dropped slightly as she turned more serious. “I can’t help but wonder if we would have survived out here,” she said softly, a lump rising in her throat. “We were so under-prepared, and so much the same. Peter was a wonderful man, of course, but we sure knew how to push each other’s buttons. I don’t know how we would have managed the first crisis we were bound to meet out here in Storybrooke. We could both be so stubborn.”

Archie brought his hand up to hers at his cheek and took it, turning his head and pressing a kiss to her palm, letting his lips linger on her skin. She hummed at the gesture and dug her hand further into his hair, wandering to his temple, massaging in little circles.

The realization about her first marriage wasn’t new, but it was the first time she’d said the words aloud. Rather than fearing what Archie might think, she found a release in the admission, a freedom in letting the words float away on the summer breeze, as if it atoned for the strange guilt that came with acknowledging her current blessings.

“It’s okay to realize how different things might have been,” Archie said softly, looking straight ahead. “I can’t imagine the emotions that must be stirred up this week, especially.” He held her hand at the curve of his neck, resting it on his collar so that it brushed the bare skin, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

Ruby blinked back the tears that threatened to well up, and she squeezed Archie’s hand, grateful that they weren’t facing each other for such a conversation. “Yes,” she said after a moment. She smiled through her blurred vision, her heart full at the sight of the man before her, their son content on his chest in half-sleep. “But they’re very good emotions,” she assured him. He looked up at her and gave her an understanding smile that made something bubble in her chest all the more, her blood warming in her veins embarrassingly quick as she recalled the physical intimacy they had shared—and anticipated what they still had to explore about each other.

She slipped her hand from his and slid her fingers under the edge of his shirt, delighting in the warm skin and downy hair under her touch as she found his collar bone. In turn, he gently held her wrist before gliding his fingers up her arm.

“If you’re wondering,” Ruby murmured, “it is very different between you and I.”

“Mmm?” Archie replied, turning his head to press soft kisses to the delicate skin of her arm.

“I like… that we have different ways of showing that we care,” she continued, selecting her words as she tried to voice the myriad of feelings he stirred within her. “We have different ways of… making love.” Her cheeks warmed as she finished her thought.

“I—I thought you’d done it all before,” Archie replied, his lips brushing her skin. Ruby licked her lips as if to stave off the heat his touch stoked within her. “You seem so confident.”

“No,” she said with a small shake of her head. “I mean, yes, in a way.” She’d certainly done the actions before, but she hadn’t taken the lead. “I’m afraid I don’t know entirely know what I’m doing—sometimes I swear I’m shaking like a leaf.”

Archie laughed, and Ruby giggled along with him, a welcome release to her nerves, though it did cause Peter to try to raise his head. “Sh-h-h-h-h,” Archie cooed to his son, rubbing his back.

Satisfied, Peter laid his had down again, and Ruby clarified. “I do… enjoy it. Trying new things. With you.”

“I’m glad,” Archie replied. “I was—I was worried it would be a duty for you. I mean, since not all woman take pleasure in the physical aspect…” he trailed off, and Ruby bit back a smirk. “I’m glad that you enjoy it so much,” he finished quickly.

“Oh, almost as much as you,” she teased with a giggle, a playful urge winning out over shyness. She grinned and reached as far as she could down his chest without disturbing the baby, wishing the position didn’t make it impossible for her to get her lips on her husband.

A comfortable silence fell as they held onto each other, and Ruby smiled to see Archie’s eyes flutter closed. Her one hand still on his collar, she moved her other hand down his cheek as a fierce wave of affection washed over her for this man who had earned her trust so completely. He had given her a home when she had nothing, had trusted her with his son, had loved her own son like his own, and had worked himself to the bone to rebuild his homestead. She’d seen the heart of Archibald Hopper in so many ways that there was nothing more natural than to reveal her own to him in return.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the reverberation of his heartbeat through her fingers, marveling at the warmth that seemed to radiate from him to her core.

Perhaps their journey had been slightly backwards, but that might have been exactly what made their life so sweet—and why she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

* * *

 

One morning when Ruby awoke, she caught Archie staring past her in the direction of August’s bed, lost in thought. She furrowed her brow as her mind cleared and brought her hand up to his chest.

“What is it?”

Archie smiled as he turned his attention to her and kissed the tip of her nose. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh before meeting his gaze, her heart light as the early morning sunlight streaked across the quilts through the curtains.

“Nothing,” he assured her, his clear eyes bright, his laugh lines crinkled as he beamed at her. “Just thinking something over.”

The low rasp of his morning voice, the murmur reserved for bed, reached deep within her, and she stretched against him, pressing her body to his. “There are no children demanding our attention yet, are there?”

Archie’s features fell in mock seriousness as he leaned over her to check on the crib—or, more accurately, its inhabitant. “Not yet. We may have a few minutes to spare.”

“A whole few minutes? However will we fill the time?” she teased, wrapping one arm around him and pressing her lips to his chest. He let out a soft moan and Ruby grinned against his skin as the sound rumbled through her lips, twining her legs with his.

Their prediction proved more accurate than they expected, with Peter making his demands before they could share more than a few kisses, and Mr. and Mrs. found themselves at the mercy of the “to do” list of another day—their last full day before August would return. In truth, they were both glad for it, for while they had put their vacation to good use, the homestead had become eerily quiet. Ruby missed her son’s stories and questions… and, perhaps, even some of his complaints.

Ruby was reminded of Archie’s secret later that day, when her curiosity was piqued when he unexpectedly came through the house with his tools and headed straight for the bedroom.

“Hey!” Ruby called from her perch at the butter churn. “I think you forgot something.”

She arched a brow at him as he returned to the bedroom doorway and took his hat off, placing it on one of the chairs at the table. Ruby fought to keep her features serious, enjoying the rarity of Archie’s disregard for tidiness—evidence of his becoming lost in a project.

After a teasingly long pause, he crossed the room in long strides, making his way behind her as she continued to pound the butter, her grip tight around the rod. Archie placed his hands on her arms and pressed his lips to her ear in soft kisses before he gave a gentle tug with his teeth.

“Mmm,” Ruby murmured, closing her eyes for a moment as her movements slowed, relaxing into his touch and the heat that emanated from his body.

And then, after a final kiss to her temple, he was gone, leaving nothing but an empty space behind her, save for the kitchen cupboards.

She frowned in the direction of the bedroom, struggling to keep her focus on the task at hand, much as she was determined to have fresh butter for when the Nolans dropped August off the next day. First, a scrape of furniture against the floor. Then, the distinct buzzing of a saw against wood, without as much as a shadow reaching the doorway to give her a clue as to his purpose.

Finally, the satisfying _thwat_ of the butter hitting the churn, now separated from the buttermilk, was enough to convince Ruby she deserved a break. She shot up from her seat and crossed the room, eager to discover the source of the ruckus.

Entering the bedroom, she noticed a hole behind Archie where August’s bed should have been.

“Jiminy _Cricket_ , what on _earth_?” she exclaimed, unable to keep from grinning. “What do you think you’re doing, Archibald Hopper?”

Archie jumped up and wiped his brow with his arm, flashing her a grin of his own. “I thought I could extend the house out a bit—give August a room of his own. Turns out, the lean-to is in the perfect spot, if I just make a bit of a doorway….”

Ruby stepped closer, her arms crossed as she surveyed his work. She fought to keep her expression serious as she fit the pieces together. It was no easy task, that was for sure, sawing through the thick logs that made the exterior walls of the cabin, and she was impressed that he managed to make two cuts, the height of one log, about two and a half feet wide. She poked her head in to see the lean-to on the other side, completely dark with its door closed, lit only from the bedroom windows inside.

She turned back to Archie, who began to look a little foolish. “I, uh—I was thinking I could ask if David could help me finish it,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ruby nodded, her expression stern though amusement bubbled in her chest. “Oh, good. For a moment, I was afraid you were going to stick our ten-year-old in the lean-to by himself with nothing but this peep-hole.” She broke into a grin as she finished her chastisement, and Archie laughed as he wrapped one arm around her, hugging her close and pressing a kiss to her hair.

“I’ll have to close in that outside door, and those walls will have to be insulated, but it should be easy enough to make it decent for now. I’ll have lots of time to finish it up before winter.”

Ruby could only laugh at the rare impulsiveness of her husband—and appreciate his decisiveness at bringing about this change. If she was worried that everything would return to its former state, she now had her proof—even if it mean they would be living with a hole in their bedroom wall for a little while.

“Well, Mr. Hopper,” she said, shifting in his arm to face him. She brought her hand up to his jaw and cupped his face, bringing it close to hers. “I wholeheartedly approve.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Hopper,” he murmured before he wrapped his arms around her and crashed his lips to hers.

 


	41. The Hoppers Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie are happy to welcome August back home after his stay with the Nolans—but not before they enjoy their last moments with the house to themselves.

For the past few days, Archie wasn’t entirely convinced that he could trust his senses. In fact, a small part of him wasn’t certain he wouldn’t wake to find it had all been a dream, but Ruby’s touch—a stroke of her fingers on his arm, a brush of her lips on his neck, a graze of her teeth on his skin—made him very aware of his physical reality.

He felt foolish, at first, to be so distracted by desire, but he and Ruby were quick to embrace the freedom gifted to them, to take full advantage of the limited responsibilities of the summer and the few days free from their ten-year-old son. Truthfully, he’d been nervous, too, but every time they were together showed him how much she wanted him—and how much they could learn together.

It still filled him with awe, the way two people could be so deeply connected—how he wanted to memorize every curve of his wife and learn every thought and dream and fear. Along with the sacred union of the physical, he cherished the moments of stillness where they could talk together—baring their souls in more ways than one.

The time together was a blessing, the start of another chapter in their lives which he looked forward to continuing—though it would certainly take on a different form once August returned.

The morning of August’s homecoming, Archie awoke to a lightness in his chest. After a few days of respite, he missed his son, and he chuckled to realize he anticipated the reunion that would happen in a few hours—though August was perhaps only a mile away at most.

He also wasn’t entirely sure how August would feel about coming home to find a hole in his wall, but they could cross that bridge when they came to it… that day. Ruby had had him tack up an old sheet to cover the hole to ease the transition, which he had to concede was a wise move.

The morning began as most others did, with stolen kisses in between caring for the baby and making breakfast—an indulgence which included eggs and bacon and coffee, a last nod to their little “honeymoon”. Even in nothing but her nightshirt, Ruby took his breath away, and he enjoyed the luxury of such candid moments for a little while longer: wrapping his arms around her from behind as she poured the coffee, her nipples evident through the thin fabric; letting his gaze linger over her form sitting beside her at the kitchen table, her hair loose and her cheeks pink with mirth as she sipped her coffee and returned his gaze, her green eyes bright.

All too soon, it was time to feed the animals and mend one of the old fences that Flora had managed to break through. He could just see the little garden from his vantage point as he worked, and he smiled at the sight of Ruby picking some peas. He couldn’t help but recall the time they’d planted them together, and how his heart sang for that brief moment when he thought she reciprocated his attentions. He’d quickly been proven wrong—or so he thought—but the memory held more honey than vinegar now. He chuckled when Flora appeared at his side, making a pest of herself as he hoisted up the new log and nailed it into place. “There, there, Girl,” he cooed as he nudged her aside with his body as best he could. When he was finished, he rewarded her with a rub to her wide nose which earned him an attempted lick, though he managed to duck away from the well-meaning gesture.

He squinted as he glanced towards the sun, now high in the sky. Ruby would be waiting for him for lunch.

His task finished, Archie gathered up his things and headed back to the barn, with Flora following behind him. She soon realized his target and decided she preferred the freedom of the pasture and the heat of the sun to being cramped in the barn, so she scurried away at the last moment while Pongo ran up to greet him.

“Hey, Boy,” he said as he hung up his tools. He bent down to scratch the dog’s ears before he stood back up, eager to make his way back to the cabin.

In a quick detour, however, he went through the back of the barn to a patch of wildflowers he’d spotted. While part of him felt ridiculous, he couldn’t resist the sentiment of picking some flowers for his wife. Besides, wasn’t that a husband’s duty? He highly suspected David did so for Mary Margaret on a regular basis....

When he was satisfied with the small bouquet he’d collected—a mix of white flowers he believed were called “Queen Anne’s lace”, with some buttercups and a purple flower and some dainty blue flowers—he turned for the house, a jog in his step as he felt his heartbeat quicken the closer he got to the front door.

With a final “shoo” to Pongo to ensure the dog stayed outside, he passed through the doorway, his heart beating quicker as his gaze landed on Ruby. She turned from the stove and greeted him with a grin as he shut the door behind him.

“I thought you might like these,” he said, his arm outstretched with his offering, his cheeks tight in a grin of his own.

“They’re beautiful,” Ruby said as she took the bouquet from him. “Though I won’t smell them in case I start sneezing.”

Archie frowned. “Oh, I can take them outside—”

“Nonsense!” Ruby declared with an emphatic shake of her head. “I’ll put them right on the table. They’ll be fine there.”

She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, which Archie returned, resting his hand on her arm for a moment, before she turned back towards the sink.

He quickly washed up at the basin by the bedroom while she prepared the flowers and placed them in large mason jar on the middle of the table. As he took his seat, he made a mental note to check about getting a proper vase the next time he was at _Gold’s_. Belle would certainly have some suggestions.

Lunch was a simple affair, but delicious—cornbread straight from the oven with cold chicken from the night before and fresh peas from the garden. The bright green morsels were sweet when left uncooked, shucking them straight from the pod, and they gave a satisfying _pop_ when he bit down on them. Archie was secretly grateful that August didn’t care for the sweet vegetable.

“Did you finish with the fence?” Ruby asked after she swallowed a bite of cornbread with butter.

“Yes—it’s all done,” he replied with a nod. “How was your morning?”

“Oh, it was fine. Peter was a little fussy, but I managed to get the cornbread made, so it went well enough.”

Archie chuckled and threw a glance down beside him to see Peter in his crib, watching his parents. “Were you giving your mama trouble?” he asked, his voice pitched high.

As if in response, Peter began waving his arms and kicking his legs, though whether to argue his innocence or wholeheartedly agree, Archie wasn’t sure.

“Well, then,” Archie said as he lifted the baby out of his cradle. “Is that so?” He rested Peter on his shoulder, holding him with one hand while he continued to eat with the other.

Ruby smiled and leaned close to rub his little back, and warmth washed over Archie to have her so near. “I think it was just gas, but he sure wasn’t happy.”

Archie bounced the child in place and tilted his head to meet Peter’s wandering gaze. “That’s no fun, huh?”

They managed to eat most of their meal in peace while Peter sucked on his fist, but soon he began to whine, no matter how Archie bounced him or rubbed his back.

“I think he wants his mama,” Archie said with a chuckle as Ruby instinctively rose and took him. “I’ll clean up, don’t worry.”

Ruby pressed a kiss to Archie’s head before she settled down in the rocking chair for Peter’s feeding. Archie cringed when he stood up too quickly, causing his chair to scrape across the floor, but Peter was distracted by a more pressing need. His cries quickly melted into contented sucking noises, and Ruby and Archie shared a smile before he collected the dishes and remnants of food.

Archie planted himself in front of the sink, elbow-deep in warm, soapy water and a dish towel over his shoulder. Methodically, he wiped, rinsed, and dried every piece as he listened for the sounds of domestic bliss coming from behind him. Each of his senses soaked in the happy scene—the warmth of the water on his skin, the sweet aroma of baking still lingering in the air, the faint humming of his wife mixed with the gurgles of his son. His heart floated in his chest, nestled under his throat as if it could barely contained by his ribcage.

How had he become so blessed?

Lost to his thoughts, he was startled by the sudden pressure around his middle as Ruby wrapped her arms around him. The lightness in his chest quickly warmed to a heavier pleasure that wound around him at her touch, her body pressed up against his, and he took a sharp breath.

“Your son’s asleep,” Ruby murmured against his ear, her voice low and sultry.

“Oh?” he managed, forcing himself to gently lower the plate in his hand before it slid to the bottom of sink. He gripped the edge of the basin as her hands wandered up his chest and her lips found his neck. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, helpless to the need she so quickly awoke within him. Bubbles of delight quickly heated to liquid desire, swirling around him in strands that threatened to coil tightly, travelling lower and lower.

She trailed hot kisses down his neck, sending sparks skittering under his skin to his middle. One hand explored his chest while the other slid lower, over his abdomen, past his navel, down to his waist…

“Ruby…” he groaned, desire building within him. He cursed himself for reacting so quickly to her touch, the ache she stoked to life.

She hugged him close as her hand found his erection and cupped it, the pressure through the fabric enough to draw another moan.

“Ruby, the Nolans could be here at any moment,” he tried to protest. He was frozen in place, not daring himself to move lest he lose control completely, his grip now digging into the wood of the counter in front of him as every muscle grew tight.

“We have time,” she insisted in between continued kisses to his neck. “Besides—that’s what makes it more _exciting_.”

For a long moment, neither spoke, though Archie could swear he could feel her smile against his neck as she watched the last of his resolve melt away.

Then, he turned in her arms, crashing his lips to hers in a violent kiss as his hands found her waist, neither caring that he dripped water all over her dress. With more force than he intended, he backed her up until she bumped into the back of the chair at the kitchen table. Without breaking their kisses, she shoved the chair aside—a dangerous move that caused them both to freeze at the sudden _screech_ across the floor. When nothing but silence came from the cradle beside them, they quickly resumed, the interruption forgotten in their desperation.

Ruby hopped up onto the table, aided by Archie’s hands at her waist. Her hands flew to his shoulders, sliding under the straps of his suspenders to guide them off his arms, and he shrugged them off, one by one. She shifted on the table and reached for the hems of her skirts to hike them higher, and Archie quickly returned his hands to her body. With one hand on the back of her neck, he moved his other hand to her knee, running it up her thigh and edging it under her chemise.

His tongue swept past her lips in plundering kisses, hungry for the taste of her, and he wound one hand into her hair where it was pinned up tightly at the nape of her neck. She inched closer to him on the table as he pressed himself against her, his hand wandering up under her skirts, along the smooth skin of her inner thigh until her reached her folds.

She was already slick with want, and he grinned against her lips as he inserted one finger into her. She moaned softly, breaking the kiss as she tilted her head back against his hand before pressing her cheek to his.

“More,” she panted, and Archie was happy to oblige, adding another finger, her muscles tight around him. She rolled her hips against his hand, and he could feel his own need building within him in pounding waves, their breaths coming heavy between them. He pumped his fingers and found her clit with his thumb, rolling in circles, gently at first, but soon increasing in speed.

“Mmm,” she moaned as she reached for his neck and pulled him close, her fingers digging into his skin. She tugged at his lower lip with her teeth, her primal desire feeding his own hunger, an ache that he was desperate to satisfy.

As he continued his ministrations with one hand, he brought his other hand to his waist. Remembering herself, Ruby’s hands fluttered to the buttons and undid them, yanking out his shirt from his pants before unfastening the last button and letting him spring free.

She shifted towards him on the table, and Archie removed his hand from between her legs and attempted to hold back her skirts. His need for her continued to build, the tension coiling within him, ready to snap as he positioned himself at her entrance. She guided him right and captured his lips with fierce hunger as she let out a moan, the sound striking something in his own core, and he furrowed his brow and kissed her deeply as he revelled in the sensation of being surrounded by her.

“Yes,” she gasped as she broke the kiss and rolled her hips into him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and bit his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. She adjusted her position as he thrust, burying himself deep, edged on by her moans, and he swallowed an oath of his own as her inner walls clamped around him, bringing him to the edge.

In that moment, stars burst in his vision as they fell together, clinging to each other as they rode the last waves of pleasure in erratic thrusts. Ruby relaxed into Archie and he held her close, slowly regaining his focus as he realized they were both panting to catch their breath.

Ruby straightened and met Archie’s gaze, her eyes glistening like the meadow after a storm, and his breath hitched in his throat. He brought his hand up to gently brush a few stray strands from her face, transfixed by her every feature.

“Not bad,” she teased, and Archie laughed.

“Not bad for an old man?” he asked pressing his forehead to hers.

“Not bad for _any_ man,” she assured him, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, and Archie took a deep breath to steady the wave of emotion that washed over him.

They held each other for a few moments longer before the room around them sharpened into focus. Archie felt a little foolish, yanking his pants off the ground from around his ankles and tucking his shirt in to make himself presentable, but he also couldn’t pretend that he was the least bit sorry for it. He also had to chuckle when Ruby rushed to the small looking glass by the bedroom after hopping down from the table. He could see the dark patches on the back of her dress where his wet hands had gripped her close—an oddly satisfying sight.

“I should have known better than to do my hair,” she grumbled, yanking out the pins.

“I can help with that, at least,” Archie assured her. He hurried over and searched her hair for the thin pieces of metal before sliding them out. “Though I’m not going to apologize, when you clearly started it.” He met her eyes in the glass and smoothed her hair over her shoulder, pressing his lips to the exposed skin at the curve of her neck in deliberate kisses.

“Mmhmm,” was all she could manage in reply, and Archie chuckled as warmth washed over him to see for the countless time the effect he had on her, also.

With one last kiss, he left her to her task, twisting and pinning up her hair as he turned his attention back to the sink. In an instant, it was as if their little recess hadn’t even happened, save for the evidence of his blood still beating hot in his veins, his body recovering from the rush of adrenaline.

Perhaps there was something to be said for… quick.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on it, however, as they finished setting everything in order for a visit from their neighbours. Ruby and Archie were just putting the last of the dishes in the cupboard when the grinding of hooves and wheels sounded in the yard. Ruby rushed outside, with Archie just behind her, and they beamed to see August sitting beside David on the wagon, just the two of them.

“Hello, Sweetheart!” Ruby exclaimed with a grin and a wave.

“Ma! Pa!” August replied, barely waiting for the wagon to come to a stop before he jumped down and threw himself at Ruby.

“Hello, Son,” Archie said after Ruby had released the boy from her tight embrace. August wrapped his arms around him, and Archie squeezed right back before pressing a kiss to his son’s head.

“Have you gotten taller?” he asked as they pulled back. He threw a glance to David before looking back to August. “I swear, you’ve gotten taller.”

August shook his head. “It’s only been a few days, Pa.” Still, the feigned nonchalance couldn’t hide the sparkle in his son’s eyes, nor deny the fact that August kept his arm around his pa’s waist. Archie grinned and cherished the moment that was a rarity with a ten-year-old.

Remembering himself, he turned to his neighbour as the man hopped down from the wagon. “David, hello! How was your week?”

David returned his greeting with his signature smile. “Oh, we had a fine time, didn’t we, August?” He nodded towards August before returning his attention to Ruby and Archie. “I think the more important question is, how was _your_ week?”

Archie shifted as he interpreted the knowing smile that the other man gave him, and he glanced to Ruby, who crossed her arms and bit back a smile.

“It—it was, uh, great, thanks,” Archie assured him. “It was good.”

David laughed. “I’m glad to hear it.”

After a pause that felt an eon to Archie, Ruby spoke up. “So Mary Margaret and the children weren’t able to come?”

“No, it was better for her to stay at the house with them today. She sends her love, though.”

“Yes, say ‘hi’ to them all for us,” Ruby insisted. Archie could see that she was a little disappointed, her shoulders falling slightly, though she kept her smile in place.

David jerked his head towards the back of the wagon. “Do you want to show your parents what you brought back?” he asked August.

“Oh yeah!” August said, breaking away from Archie and hurrying to join David. Archie’s stomach lurched and he couldn’t help but frown at his neighbour, wondering what he’d gotten them into.

The secret was soon revealed when August opened the lid of a basket and pulled out a black kitten with white on its stomach and paws and nose. Archie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Remember, Pa? Uncle David said it was time to bring her home.”

“Oh?” Ruby asked, raising her brows to Archie.

Archie licked his lips and took a step towards his wife, placing his hand on her back. “I, uh—I promised him one of the Nolans’ kittens, back when… well, before.”

“Ah.”

She turned her face away and he pressed a kiss to her temple before joining August and David.

“She’s beautiful!” Archie beamed at his son. “What’s her name?”

“Figaro,” August replied with a shrug as he held the creature up. The poor thing wriggled and mewed in his hands. “Mary Margaret and Emma came up with it. I might just call her ‘Fig’.”

“Hmm. ‘Fig.’” Archie held his thumb and forefinger to his chin and glanced at David and Ruby before returning his gaze to his son. “I think I like it.”

Ruby took a step forward and bent down to see the kitten. “Hey, little fella,” she cooed with a pet to its head. “Hello, Fig. Aren’t you a sweetie.”

August cradled the kitten to his chest. “She’s still pretty small, so is it okay if I keep her with me in the bedroom?”

“Of course!” Ruby agreed before Archie had a chance to suggest a compromise. “I’m sure we can fix up a little bed. Why don’t we go find an old basket and a blanket? And you can say hello to your brother.”

Archie smiled them off as Ruby guided August by the shoulders towards the house with a kiss to his head. He let his gaze linger on the pair for a long moment before turning to David beside him.

“Thanks so much for bringing him home—and for having him over. We really appreciate it.”

David grinned. “It was our pleasure.”

“You’re sure he wasn’t any trouble?”

“Nah,” David insisted as he hooked his thumbs into his waistband. “I kind of liked having another man in the house.”

Archie chuckled. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

“And how about you? You enjoyed your time with the Mrs.?”

Archie licked his lips, unsure of how much he wanted to say, though he most certainly picked up on the glint in David’s eye. “We had a very good time together, yes.”

David clapped his hand on Archie’s back. “Judging from that mark on your neck, I would say so.”

Archie felt his cheeks flush as his hand instinctively rubbed the offending spot. “I, uh—well…”

David laughed as he grabbed August’s sack from the back of the wagon, and Archie quickly took it from him. “I’m just glad to see that you’re finally a happily married man,” David said, and Archie couldn’t help but relax at the warmth in his friend’s tone.

“ _Very_ happily married. And thank you.”

Not being able to resist one last quip, David added more quietly, “Don’t worry, Mary Margaret likes to be rough sometimes, too. I’d say we’re just lucky.”

Archie shook his head as they walked towards the cabin’s door. “I guess we are. Now, to change the subject entirely, would you like a drink? Something to eat? Ruby’s made some delicious cornbread…”

The two men laughed as they entered the house, their minds on an entirely different kind of appetite.

 

* * *

 

Ruby and August turned towards the front door as it swung open and Archie’s and David’s deep voices rang through to the bedroom.

“Pa!” August cried as he ran into the main room, and Ruby chuckled as she followed behind with Peter nestled on her shoulder.

“Pa, there’s a hole in my wall,” August exclaimed, his tone equal parts surprise and accusation.

“I told him he needed to talk to you about that,” Ruby said to Archie, swaying slightly to placate her young son. She grinned when David’s eyebrows shot up, and she nodded towards her husband.

“Oh, about that,” Archie began with a rub to his neck. Ruby thought he looked almost sheepish, and she couldn’t help but smirk. “August, I thought it was about time you get your own bedroom.”

“In… the lean-to?” August’s eyes brightened instantly.

“No—well, yes, sort of—but not exactly.” Ruby and David exchanged amused glances as Archie tripped over his words. “Actually, I thought it could be a project that Uncle David could help me with.” Ruby noticed that her husband kept his eyes firmly planted on their son without a flicker of a glance to the man in question. “And you can help, too, since it’ll be your room.” Archie put a hand on August’s shoulder as the boy frowned. “I thought we could build a new room where the lean-to is, so you can have a room of your own.”

David brought his thumb up to lips, watching the whole scene with a smirk that Ruby suspected matched her own.

“My own room!” August threw his arms around his father. “Thanks, Pa!”

Archie dared to look at Ruby before returning his focus to August. “Well, you’ll have to share with Peter, eventually—but that won’t be for a long while yet.”

Ruby held the baby up so she could see his face. “What do you think, Peter? It sounds like your Pa is going to stick you in the lean-to with your older brother!” The suggestion made everyone laugh, though Ruby was certain there would be times in the future that it would be a tempting course of action.

“And it’s only if you’ve got the time,” Archie added, finally turning to David. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Of course!” David agreed with a grin that warmed Ruby through. “I’d be happy to help.”

The verbal agreement earned David a hug from the ten-year-old with a muffled, “Thanks”. After a quick visit to the bedroom so August could show off his kitten sleeping in its new bed, Ruby insisted David stay for a quick bite to eat—an offer he didn’t refuse.

The visit of a few minutes lasted more than half an hour, but the Hoppers soon had to wave goodbye to their neighbour. The rest of the afternoon disappeared in a flash as Ruby prepared fried chicken in celebration of August’s return, despite Archie’s insistence that it wasn’t necessary since they’d had it for his birthday not long ago. Ruby paid no heed, and soon she was piling a plate high with meat that made her mouth water.

After Archie finished grace, Ruby served their plates, and the sight of everyone at their rightful place made her heart swell. Their break was nice, but it was lovely to have their family back together, eating around the table as usual…

Though of course, not everything was the same as before. Ruby felt heat bloom in her cheeks when she realized what had occurred earlier with Archie in the very place where she now sat. She refused to look at him, certain he could read her thoughts. Instead, she turned her attention to August. Besides, she was eager to hear how he’d enjoyed his own vacation.

“Oh, it was fine,” he told them. “But my bed was squished in beside Emma’s and sometimes she kicked me in the night.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Archie said with a sympathetic nod. Ruby started as his fingers brushed hers under the table. She bit back a smile as she realized what was happening before curling her fingers around his. It was impressive, how he kept his attention on August and could continue eating with his other hand.

“Yeah. She was okay during the day—we got to play a lot. I had to help with some chores, though, but I didn’t mind taking care of Happy and Sneezy. I think they liked me. And the kittens were able to do more. Emma and I would dangle bits of string and they would chase it.”

“That sounds adorable,” Ruby replied, her attention mostly focused on her son… even though a small part of her was distracted by Archie rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

“Yeah, they were pretty cute. Their ma’s a pretty good mouser—that’s what Uncle David said—and I think Fig might be good at it, too.”

“That’s good to hear,” Archie said. “It’ll be nice to have a cat around, to be honest.”

Ruby couldn’t imagine the tiny creature wandering around the homestead by herself, though she knew eventually Figaro would be barred from the bedroom. Perhaps she could convince Archie to let the pet stay in the main room of the house during the colder weather.

“What else did you do?” Ruby jumped in, eager to hear more details.

“Auntie Mary Margaret has some books, so I started reading one of those with her. It’s called _Frankenstein_ , and it’s about this monster that comes to life with electricity. It’s really cool!” Ruby’s eyebrows shot up at that and she glanced at Archie, wondering what his thoughts were on the subject matter, but he kept his features relaxed. “Emma couldn’t read it with us, though.” A hint of a smirk crossed August’s lips and Ruby could see the twinkle of a boy happy to have something for his own.

“That was nice of Auntie Mary Margaret,” Archie reminded him. “I hope you found other ways to include Emma.”

“Oh, yeah,” August continued with an emphatic nod before stuffing his face with chicken. “We played pirates and cowboys, and we found some wild strawberries. Don’t worry—we didn’t eat any until Uncle David said it was okay.”

Ruby grinned. “I just hope you minded your manners a little better when you ate with the Nolans,” she added, half teasing, half serious.

August swallowed and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, which earned him a gentle warning from his father. “Don’t worry, I did,” he assured them with a grin, and Ruby couldn’t keep from chuckling.

“It sounds like you had a great time!” Ruby exclaimed as she leaned back in her chair, pleasantly full with her hand still clasped in Archie’s. She made a mental note to ask Mary Margaret about the full details of August’s visit, certain that there would be one or two incidents to report, despite David’s insistence to the contrary.

“Yeah, but sometimes Emma was following me around too much. I couldn’t always do what I wanted to do because she’s still too little for it, you know?” Ruby fought to focus on her son’s words as she caught Archie’s gaze on her out of the corner of her eye. She turned slightly to look at him, but he quickly looked away and returned his attention to their son with a squeeze to her hand. Ruby bit her lip to suppress a giggle from escaping before she fixed her gaze on August.

“There was one afternoon I was writing something down before I forgot it, and she spilled water all over the paper and ruined it.”

“Oh, dear,” Archie said before sneaking another glance at Ruby. She quickly reached for her drink to hide behind and she took a gulp of water to calm the odd energy that buzzed in her chest.

Suddenly, August sank into his chair and crossed his arms in a huff. “Okay, what is going on with you two?” He narrowed his eyes at them both. “What happened when I was away?”

Ruby burst out laughing which turned into a sputter as she struggled to keep her water down.

Archie instantly dropped her hand, and she could see his cheeks flush a shade of crimson once she collected herself.

“Oh, well, that’s—it’s one of those things you’ll understand when you’re older,” he said sternly, as if to close the subject to questions—a rare occurrence, Ruby knew. She couldn’t help the glimmer of amusement that rose in her chest, but she forced her features to stay serious, especially given August’s evident annoyance.

“That’s _not_ an answer, Pa. Besides, I’m older now—I just turned ten.” The crease of his brow deepened as his gaze darkened to a glare.

“Your pa and I just had some quiet time together,” she explained in an attempt to eliminate any sense of mystery. “But we missed you, and we’re glad you’re back.” She flashed him a smile for emphasis, her heart full with the truth of the words.

Slowly, he relaxed, though more from the recognition of a battle he couldn’t win rather than being fully convinced. “Okay.”

Archie and Ruby shared another quick look before Archie changed the subject. “I had to mend a fence in the back pasture. Flora somehow managed to break through again.”

August smiled. “Yeah, it’s ‘cause she likes the clover patch over there.”

Archie grinned. “You’re probably right. Maybe you can bring some to her after dinner? I think Cleo and Pongo missed you, too.”

“I’d like that.”

The rest of their dinner passed uneventfully, and Ruby cherished the conversation, committing the sight and sounds and smells to memory, marvelling at how the ordinary could make her heart feel so full.

After a couple of hours spent outside in the warm air, surrounded by the chirp of the crickets, the Hoppers extended their evening with August reading to them by lamplight until he started to droop. By the time they all went to bed, it was far past August’s normal bedtime, but Ruby and Archie were happy to indulge him.

“Are you feeling guilty about banishing him to the lean-to?” Ruby teased in a whisper as they climbed into bed, August already snoring lightly a few feet away.

“I’m not!” Archie protested before stopping himself and quieting his tone. “I’m not banishing him.”

Ruby giggled as they both sank into the mattress and she instinctively turned around and pressed her back to him as he wrapped his arms around her. “I know. I think it will be good for him,” she said more seriously. After a pause, she added, “You know, he’s probably caught on to what’s happening.”

“Mmhmm,” Archie agreed, burying his face into the back of her neck. “I just figured that tonight wasn’t the best time to get into details.” His lips brushed her skin as he spoke.

“True,” Ruby agreed. In all honesty, she would be the last person to protest having a bit more privacy, even by the slightest of margins. She breathed in deeply, soaking in the warmth of Archie’s breath on her neck, and she smiled as his hand wandered down her waist and thigh under the covers to the edge of her nightshirt. Slowly, he worked his way back up under the fabric, the slight roughness of his calloused hands a delicious contrast to the tender motion. He stroked her middle with his thumb, pausing briefly until his hand finished the journey to cup one breast, and warmth washed over her at the ease of the gesture, full of affection and familiarity.

She fell asleep to the sounds of her boys’ even breathing, a lullaby that swept her off to a dreamland that wasn’t half so sweet as her reality.

 


	42. Of Haylofts and Things to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie fully enjoy their present when Jefferson drops by, reminding them of the next chapter about to begin in all of their lives.

Once again, Ruby and Archie found themselves navigating a new normal—which would hopefully be the last major change for a little while. Ruby worried that she might forget herself, but in truth, it was hard to forget August’s presence. In fact, he was the one to wake them up the next morning—along with the faint mews of his new pet—and Ruby all but pushed Archie from the bed as their son tried to convince his father to join him for chores.

“Oh, didn’t we tell you? The morning chores are all your responsibility,” Archie muttered with his eyes closed, a corner of his mouth quirked. He opened one eye and stared at August, and Ruby had to muffle a giggle behind her hand. “You are ten years old, now.”

“Pa-a- _a-a-a-a_ ,” August groaned as he took one arm and yanked on it.

“That’s right, _Pa,_ ” Ruby added. “You have chores to do with your son.”

“Well, if that’s true, I believe you have your own chores.”

August threw up his hands and sighed. “Well, if you two are going to stay in bed, don’t blame me if I use up all the bacon and syrup for breakfast. I’m going to have butter and jam and biscuits, too.”

Ruby laughed and forced herself out of bed with Archie not far behind. “Alright, alright, we’re up!” she exclaimed. “Now, please go and collect the eggs and _I_ will oversee breakfast.”

August rolled his eyes and left the room, already dressed, and Ruby was sure she caught a hint of a smile on his features before she checked to see that Peter was still sleeping.

Ruby and Archie shared a grin as they changed into their day clothes. Before she had a chance to leave the bedroom, Archie grabbed her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her as he pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

Ruby bit her lip and rubbed her nose against his. “Good morning,” she echoed, the world around them still for a flicker of a moment so that she was sure she could hear their hearts beating together.

And then, the sweet moment was gone as they passed through to the bustle that awaited on the other side of the door, trading the peace of early morning for a more energetic sort of domesticity.

Ruby felt she barely had time to blink before breakfast was over and it was time for her to attack the task of the day—washing. With a goodbye kiss to Archie before he headed outside, she first made sure Peter was content in his cradle before enlisting August’s help to bring a couple of buckets of water in from the pump. He groaned a little until Ruby told him he could continue with his lessons at the kitchen table. At the very least, she was certain he preferred it to washing the floor or mucking out the stalls in the barn.

As Ruby neared the front entrance with her bucket and scrub brush, having worked her way across the main room of the cabin from the far corner where the sewing machine was placed, the door swung open, spilling the mid-day sun across her handiwork. Ruby turned around to see Archie in the doorway.

“Don’t you dare take another step, Archie Hopper!” she ordered as she glanced down to the mud on his boots. “I’ve just got this place clean, and—”

She was unable to say more as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up to him.

“August, you’re okay to watch Peter while I show your ma something, hmm?” Ruby frowned as she searched his features, set in determination as he kept his gaze focused on their son.

“Sure, Pa,” August mumbled, not bothering to look up from his books. His bizarre focus made Ruby suspect that he was working on his own project rather than his schoolwork, but she didn’t have time to object as Archie pulled her outside.

She jogged to keep up with his strides as he crossed the yard towards a nearby tree, and Ruby couldn’t keep the butterflies from fluttering in her chest, a sly smile creeping over her features.

“I thought we could use a break,” he explained when he finally stopped. He took her by the shoulders and pressed her back to the tree before capturing her lips in a fervent kiss.

“Mmm,” Ruby sighed in agreement, relaxing into his touch as all thought flew from her mind, wholly unconcerned with the rough bark pressing into her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her pulse quickening in her veins as the familiar heat rose within her. She slung one leg around him and he reached down to shift her skirts up, pulling back from their kisses, like a dance that they’d begun to master. When he’d gathered the fabric sufficiently, he returned his gaze to her, his eyes dark as he lowered his lips to hers, his warm breath tickling her skin. Instead of making contact again, however, he hovered his lips over hers before pulling back, and Ruby groaned, the action only heightening her want.

“You’re learning,” she rasped as his skilled hands wandered over her body to the small of her back, then her waist. With a hop, she wrapped both legs around him and he shoved her against the tree, crashing her lips to his in fierce want.

Ruby breathed deep, desperation flooding her as the taste of him only fueled her hunger. Her hands wandered over his neck, his shoulders, his chest as his tongue explored her mouth, and Ruby revelled in the primal energy that sparked between them. He shifted one hand to her thigh, the pressure of his grip sending flames licking under her skin, and she instinctively grabbed for his waistband, eager to satiate the ache that continued to build in her core. She grinned to find that he was already hard, though she was not in the least bit surprised.

Suddenly, he wrenched himself away, and Ruby frowned as her breaths came shallow.

“Not here,” he panted, his voice rough with desire that made Ruby melt.

He dropped her legs and Ruby stood up as he took her hand in his, her pulse still pounding in her ears. He quickly decided on the barn and led her towards the door with more force than his usual manner. Ruby bit her lip, thoroughly enjoying this side of her husband.

He motioned towards the ladder to the hayloft, and Ruby giggled. “Are you sure?”

“The boys are fine, and we’re close by if there’s any trouble.”

Ruby wasn’t going to argue with that, and so she scurried up the ladder with Archie just behind her. The sweet scent of the hay almost made up for other offending smells, though neither of them noticed as Archie reached for Ruby’s waist before tugging her to the far corner. They quickly resumed their previous activity, colliding as if they were attracted by gravity itself, with Ruby digging her hands into Archie’s hair and him hugging her close by her rear as they kissed. Desire boiled up once more, rolling within her as she sought to cover every inch of him with her hands—his neck, shoulders, back, arms…

She slid his suspenders down his arms before yanking his shirt from his pants. Never breaking their kisses, he reached down to join her, unfastening his buttons in such haste she was sure they would pop one off completely.

His pants undone, he sprung free, and Ruby could feel liquid heat pooling in her core in anticipation. She pushed Archie back into the soft pile of hay, and he met her gaze in a brief moment of stillness, his eyes the blue of a dark sky before a summer storm. Ruby felt her breath hitch in her throat as she hiked up her skirts before straddling him, the soft hay giving way beneath her weight on her knees as she kept her eyes locked on his.

She took a sharp breath as she lowered herself on him, and she rolled her hips against him, enjoying the fullness. Adjusting her position, she leaned over him, clasping his hands in hers as she set the pace. As the friction built, she could feel the tension coiling within her, the white-hot heat about to come as her inner walls clamped around him, and his grip tightened around her fingers.

She could see that Archie was close, and she closed the distance between them, capturing his lips as he let out a moan, her brow furrowed, helpless to the animalistic desire that took over. She broke from their kiss and leaned back, releasing his hands as she shifted to hit a certain spot. His hands flew under her skirts and gripped her thighs almost painfully, only heightening the sense of pleasure, her legs trembling slightly as she neared the edge with each thrust as he slipped over the same spot. She could feel her inner walls clamp tight around him before she fell completely, reaching the climax with Archie, and she let out an oath.

She rolled off of him into the hay, panting alongside him, and they both chuckled as they fought to catch their breath. Her heart swelled at the emotions he stirred within her, still in awe that such a steady man could embody such rough passion that seemed to draw out another side of her—their true selves, together, open only to each other. It was intoxicating, to be the object of such desire and to see him throw away all inhibition.

“We should do that more often,” Ruby panted, turning her head towards him, her head spinning slightly as she readjusted to the world around them. For a moment, at least, she was completely ignorant of the sour smells that rose from below or the straw poking under the neck of her dress.

“That—would be good,” Archie agreed, his eyes bright. Flora mooed beneath them, and Ruby burst out laughing. She rolled into Archie and buried her face in his chest to muffle the sound and he settled a hand on her back with a chuckle, and she breathed in the earthy scent of him.

“Pa! Ma! Are you in here?” a voice called from below, and Ruby and Archie both froze, sharing glances.

Finally, Archie spoke. “Um, yes—I’ll—we’ll be down in a minute!” he called, and Ruby fought to control her giggles as she kept her face pressed to Archie. “Is everything alright?”

“Mr. Madden’s here.”

“Tell him we’ll be right there.”

After a moment, Ruby let her laughter escape, and she glanced up to see Archie’s face flushed pink.

“Honey, you’d best put yourself together before receiving visitors,” she teased, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Speak for yourself, Darling,” he replied, pulling some hay from her hair.

Having pushed their luck as far as they dared, Ruby and Archie scrambled up. Archie tucked his shirt into his pants and did up his buttons, barely shrugging on his suspenders before climbing down the ladder with Ruby. With a final brush down, they left the barn and crossed the yard towards the house, where Jefferson Madden was outside talking to August, his pair of thoroughbred horses hitched to his wagon beside them.

“Ah, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hopper,” Jefferson greeted them, and warmth washed over Ruby at his presence.

“Hello, Jefferson,” Archie returned the greeting, taking Jefferson’s outstretched hand. Ruby smiled and nodded as Archie placed his hand on her back.

“I’m glad we finally found you,” the man continued.

“Yeah, I don’t know why they were up in the barn. They’ve been acting funny since I got back,” August explained.

Ruby’s cheeks instantly warmed at the comment, and she bit her lip, praying that Jefferson hadn’t noticed.

They would not, however, be so fortunate. “I can see that!” The man laughed and gestured towards Ruby’s hair. “You’ve got some remnants from the hayloft gracing your hairstyle. Unless it’s an intentional look—I’m hardly one to comment on the latest fashions.”

Ruby laughed and felt for the offending piece, which Archie pulled from her hair.

“It’s nothing,” Archie insisted, though Ruby could tell from the glint in Jefferson’s eye that he knew exactly what had happened. He was gracious enough not to say anything more, and only grinned and nodded when he was invited inside for refreshments. Before they entered the house, Ruby shared one last look with Archie, whose features were still flushed. She knew she should feel a little embarrassed, but she took too much delight in the humour of it all, watching her husband squirm, and she wasn’t going to complain about the pleasant warmth, or the satisfaction of the hint of soreness between her legs, after such an activity.

The incident was soon forgotten, anyway, with Jefferson adding his unique energy to the little cabin. His attention was immediately captured by the baby, and Ruby wholeheartedly consented to their visitor entertaining her son for his entire stay over cookies and cider.

The purpose of his visit wasn’t entirely clear, however, and Ruby and Archie shared more than a couple of looks with raised brows. The mystery wasn’t solved by the time the time the gentleman left, either, aside from the usual explanation of checking in on the plans for welcoming the doctor the next day.

“You’d be more than welcome to join us for dinner tomorrow,” Ruby repeated as they stood by the wagon to see Jefferson off, Peter in her arms and August beside them.

“Thank you, kindly,” Jefferson said with a smile as he hopped up to his seat. “But I’d hate to intrude. I’m sure the Hoppers will make him feel at home. I’ll just have to meet him some other time. And please—remember, no need to mention my name.”

Ruby couldn’t suppress the grin that spread at the casual mention of “The Hoppers”, though the delight couldn’t drown out the suspicions that were raised once again with Mr. Madden’s particular interest in the new doctor, or his insistence on secrecy.

“Of course. We’ll let you know how it goes,” Archie assured him as he put his arm around Ruby. “Say ‘hi’ to Grace for us!”

“Will do! Thanks again for your hospitality.”

With a flick of the reins, he was off, leaving the family waving towards the drive.

“Does he usually drop by like that?” Ruby asked, turning to her husband.

Archie furrowed his brow. “Now and then, but I think you’re right—there was something odd about that.”

August took the opportunity to escape to his tree house, tired of so much time spent inside. Ruby and Archie chuckled and turned to return to the house, with Archie pressing a kiss to her head.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly into evening in the buzz of anticipation of the next day would bring. Before Ruby knew it, she was kissing Archie farewell on his journey to meet the long-awaited Dr. Whale—a man who brought a whole ocean of emotions flooding over her as she remembered how Archie had worked so hard to bring his presence about for her and Peter. God willing, perhaps she would require his assistance for a similar, happy reason in the future.

“Can’t I come, Pa?” August asked with more than a hint of a whine, and Ruby threw a stern look of her own at the ten-year-old.

“Not today, I’m afraid,” Archie reminded him as he hoisted himself up into the wagon. “Dr. Whale will need some time to get settled in his rooms, and I’ve got a lot of things to do in town. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Have fun!” Ruby called out as the wagon journeyed down the path towards town. Her heart swelled in her chest at the realization that she was truly Mrs. Hopper, mother to August and Peter, husband to Archie, and resident of the best little town on the edge of the frontier.

It was time to start a new chapter in Storybrooke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so that ending might be a little too cheesy and meta, but hopefully it's enjoyable! This is technically the last chapter, but there will be a little epilogue next week. :D


	43. Epilogue - One Year (and a bit) Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Archie look to the future and what it has in store for their family.

Ruby lay awake in bed, the room dark, save for the bright strip of moonlight that spilled in through a crack in the curtains. It was just enough for her to see the rough boards of the ceiling by, and she stared at them as she listened to Archie’s steady breathing beside her. He was asleep on his stomach with his hand draped over her, and she stroked his arm as she enjoyed the pressure of its weight across her middle. Normally, her body would welcome the opportunity to fall back to sleep, lulled by the crickets’ song outside and the hint of her son’s snore coming from the next room.

Tonight, however, was different.

She turned to see Peter’s crib against the wall beside them, and she smiled when she made out his little bum pressed against the slats. It was hard to believe he was a year and a half old, now, and she marveled at the fact that this was the only life he’d known—this little cabin, with his older brother just a few feet away to watch over him. Ruby knew it wouldn’t be too long before Peter would be running after August trying to keep up, but for now, August loved coaxing his baby brother to race across the floorboards in his toddler waddle.

Ruby smiled and turned her head back to Archie. Her gaze lingered over his features, now relaxed in sleep, that she knew even better than her own: his brow, so deeply furrowed in empathy when they first met, as if he was long accustomed to holding on to the burdens of others to give them respite. His kind, clear eyes, now hidden behind delicate eyelids, that so often overflowed with understanding, that sparkled so brightly when he laughed, an effect only heighted by the lines that framed them. She ran her fingers along his arm, sliding down the soft fuzz of hair until she reached his hand, his fingers, roughened by years of farm work that, before that, had been trained in healing—his strong arms that could work a plough and provide the gentlest comfort in an embrace—his hands that played with their boys until they collapsed into fits of giggles and could also make her hum in pleasure…

Her pulse buzzed in her veins as butterflies fluttered in her chest, unwilling to listen to reason and postpone their activity until after dawn. Perhaps it was the moon calling to her with the same gravity that pulled back the tides, or maybe it was the secret she’d been keeping, protecting, polishing like a precious jewel that shone its silvery light through every crevice of her ribs, but suddenly—Ruby could no longer fight the impulse.

“Archie,” she whispered, turning to face him completely. “Archie!”

She chuckled as his expression remained unmoved.

“ _Archie!_ ” she finally hissed at the risk of waking up their toddler.

“Hmm?” he murmured as he raised his brows without opening his eyes.

“Archie, I need you to come with me,” Ruby murmured, tracing his jaw lightly. She could hear her pulse in her ears and she licked her lips.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, his features suddenly creased in a frown as his eyes fluttered open. “What’s wrong?”

“No, no—nothing’s wrong,” Ruby assured him, pressing a kiss to his lips that he instinctively returned. “I just need you to come with me.”

“Darling, it’s the middle of the night.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but…” Ruby trailed off before she broke into a grin. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

With a gentle shove, she was able to convince him to get out of bed, though not without a groan as he grabbed his glasses and pushed them up his nose. She bit her lip as she grabbed a couple of blankets before she led him outside, the two of them clad in nothing but their nightshirts as they stepped down into the soil from the front porch.

The moon shone bright, and Ruby’s heart caught in her throat as it bathed the world in silver. Such a sight was rarely enjoyed, and Ruby gave Archie’s hand a squeeze as she paused for a moment. He smiled at her, causing her heart to swell for an entirely different reason, and she turned to lead him to his spot that overlooked the valley.

The treetops, cloaked in their golden autumn colours, looked like they belonged to the world of fairies as the moon shone its ethereal light over them. It was enough to make Ruby forget the true reason she’d dragged her husband—her very hard-working and tired husband—from their cozy bed.

“It is beautiful,” he murmured as if reading her mind, taking her in his arms as they sat on the log bench, draping one blanket over their legs, the other over their shoulders.

“Mmhmm,” she agreed, her heart beginning to race as their breaths fogged before them in the chill of the October evening. She closed her eyes to hear the chirps of the crickets around them, a symphony of strings, and she let out a happy sigh. As if to agree, a lone wolf added its own voice to the chorus, and a shiver of delight ran through her.

“Are you cold?” Archie asked against her ear, his lips brushing her skin.

“No, not at all,” she assured him. In truth, the late autumn air was unusually warm, adding to the fairytale-quality of the familiar landscape. Ruby wasn’t entirely convinced that they hadn’t stepped through some sort of portal like in August’s books, transporting them to another world that only happened to resemble their own.

“Sometimes I forget how beautiful this place is,” Archie said, echoing Ruby’s own thoughts. “And then, to see it at night, with the moon—the stars—the magnificent carpet of the heavens.”

Ruby chuckled. “That is poetic.”

Archie hugged his arms more tightly around her and pressed a kiss to her hair, and the mirth that danced under her skin settled into something more sincere.

Ruby parted her lips and took a deep breath before she spoke. “I hope—I hope you know how much I love our life together,” she said, shifting in Archie’s arms to face him. She noticed the adoration in his eyes, along with the flicker of confusion as he sought to understand her motive.

“I… do…” he said with a slow nod, lowering his hands to take hers in his grip. “I love you so much,” he added. He cupped her cheek, and Ruby had to fight the tears that welled up as his clear blue eyes shone in the moonlight with emotion.

“I love you, too,” she replied, choking on the words as a lump rose in her throat. For a moment, she wanted to freeze time, commit the sight of him to memory, him bathed in the silvery light and looking at her like she was the moon. And then, she remembered herself, her heart beating against her chest as if her earthly body was no match to contain such emotions. “And I’m so grateful for everything you’ve given me.”

Slowly, she brought his hands up to her mouth and pressed her lips to his fingers. When she looked up, she could see his features creased in sincerity as she lowered his hands and pressed them to her stomach. “Now, I have something to give you…”

Time itself really did stand still as she held her breath and studied every movement of his expression. Puzzlement melted into recognition before he lit up like the sun, and Ruby was certain this was one of the happiest moments of her life.

“Oh, Ruby,” he breathed, glancing between their hands clasped over her stomach and her eyes. “I—is it—are you sure?”

Ruby laughed as tears welled up. “I think so,” she assured him. In truth, she had always regretted how long she’d waited to confirm her first pregnancy, and this time around, she was far more confident in the changes she could already detect in her body. Besides, Percy’s confirmation had also helped.

“Oh, Ruby,” Archie said again, taking her in his arms, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders as she hugged him tightly. “We’re going to have a baby!”

“We’re going to have a baby,” she agreed. As they finally pulled back, she felt as if her heart could float away in joy as she met Archie’s gaze.

Slowly, reverently, he took her face in his hands and tilted his head, bringing her lips to his in a tender kiss filled with all the love and hope that flooded her own heart.

After a prayer of thanks, they sat together for a long while under the canopy of stars, basking in their own private paradise, wholly unconcerned for the pressing matters that would come with the dawn. Ruby let out a happy sigh and relaxed into Archie as she marveled at the countless blessings that had been bestowed upon her—upon them. His arms around her, his hands clasped at her middle, he stroked her belly, and Ruby couldn’t help but picture all that lay ahead—his arms around her when she would be as big as a house; Archie bouncing their baby boy or girl in his embrace in front of the fireplace as he’d sing; August and Peter watching out for their little baby brother or sister as they caught frogs or jumped into puddles or found some other such mischief.

How much had changed, when just over two years ago she had been a grieving widow, an expectant mother without a soul to claim as a friend, hunched over a rough wooden cross. She took a deep breath and clasped her hands over Archie’s arms held snuggly around her, his warmth radiating through her. The rare moment of quiet reminded her of the beauty of the life they were weaving together, a tapestry of both vibrant colours of life’s joys and dark shades of heartbreak, with loose strands tucked in to create something whole and wonderful.

They had found their happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this time has come! I've probably mentioned before how this has been a passion project of mine for over two years, and I'm so pleased I've actually finished. More than that, I've so loved exploring this story of Ruby's and Archie's, and I'm excited about what's next!
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much for reading! I can't express how grateful I am for your views and comments. I hope you'll enjoy what's to come for everyone in Storybrooke. :)


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